Oblivion, Complete Oblivion
by CodenameOokami
Summary: Revenge is a thousand times sweeter than love. Even if it requires cross-dressing, becoming a shinigami, and joining Division 9…no matter what my fukutaichou says.
1. Chapter 1

Oblivion, Complete Oblivion

Four years ago, Ren Moriyama was humiliated and cast aside by her former childhood friend and first love, leading to a complicated series of events, including cross-dressing, becoming a shinigami, and joining Division 9. In her quest for vengeance, she has closed her mind and her heart to any notions of love. But will her obstinate views change when she meets the squad's fukutaichou?

**A/N: This is only my second story on FanFiction, so please try not to judge too harshly. I apologize in advance for unsatisfactory writing. And, last time I checked, the mangaka that created Bleach was Tite Kubo, not me. In case any of you were fooled at the beginning.**

**REWRITTEN: As of 09/02/2012**

* * *

><p>Chapter 1<p>

I couldn't help but scowl as I glanced up at the frilly pink Valentine's decorations that adorned the entrance to the Ninth Division.

I had finally applied to and gotten accepted into my first division. The Ninth Division was the Security Force of the Gotei 13, but also publisher of Seireitei Communication, so it wasn't that odd to see them in full holiday regalia.

Valentine's Day was a day when naïve teenage girls tediously labored to pour out their adoration, only to be rejected awkwardly and sometimes cruelly by boys pretending to be men. At least, that was my understanding of February 14th.

So when cries of "It's Moriyama-kun!" and "I hope he accepts my feelings!" pierced my thoughts, I froze in my footsteps.

Standing directly in front of the Ninth Division's barracks was a group of said girls, some shinigami officers, but the majority of the group was a giggling bunch of Shinō Academy students.

My dislike of Valentine's Day was not the only reason why this situation was so uncomfortable. It was so much more complex than that, because the "Moriyama-kun" that they were giving chocolates to…was a **_girl_**.

I have to admit that I was once one of those hopeful girls that stayed up past midnight, half straining in anxiousness and half deluded with lovesick fantasies. In fact, the reason why I was disguised as "Moriyama-kun" was precisely because of "love".

A smaller girl was suddenly pushed out of the group, all of them hissing, "Go ahead! Give him the chocolates!"

The girl, probably a first-year Shinō Academy student, hands trembling, raised a heart-shaped box decorated with intricate pink lace. She was nearly a head shorter than me, with bright red hair tied in pigtails and a freckled cheeks the same color as her hair.

"Ah! Um—I'm Kikyo Harada. I've always admired you since I was in the Academy. Please accept my handmade chocolates!" she squeaked, rushing through her speech.

Beads of sweat began to build on my forehead as I struggled to find the correct response, trying not to stomp on this girl's feelings. "I'm sorry, but, I, uh—" I was cut short by the mocking voices of the crowd. "I knew he would reject her. That girl's too plain and ugly," they sneered. The girl, Kikyo, raised her head to pierce me with large, shimmering eyes, about to burst into tears.

Seeing the crushed expression on her face ignited an inferno that had me seeing red. I have to admit that I had a bit of an overreaction.

"Hey you!" I shouted to the pack of girls. Several of them looked at me excitedly, but paled when they saw my stormy expression. I took several steps forward. "All of you are such hypocrites! This is supposed to be a day of affection and love, but you have to ruin it for Harada-san because you're all cowards! And then you have the nerve to laugh at her! She's braver than all of you!" I ranted.

"Why are you sticking up for her? Do you love her, Ren-chan?" wailed one shinigami woman with flamboyantly styled blonde hair.

"Do I have to love someone to know what you did was wrong? Is your mind so preoccupied with this idea of 'love' that you can't tell the difference between your delusions and reality?" I demanded. "And don't you dare call me Ren-chan!" The woman blushed furiously and fell silent.

"Does this mean you won't accept our Valentine's Day chocolates, Moriyama-san?" a bespectacled Shinō Academy student asked, looking dejected.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Look. I find it very flattering that you care about me enough to make me them, but I can't accept them all. I'm sorry."

"Moriyama-kun is so kind! He doesn't want to hurt our feelings by taking one person's chocolates and making the rest of us sad. Your love is so pure!" she cried.

"No, that's not what I meant," I muttered, but the crowd had already burst into hysterics.

"I love you even more, Moriyama-kun!" several of them cried.

Now this was getting seriously awkward. I think I had just made the situation worse.

"What's going on here?" boomed a from behind the crowd.

The group parted as two male shinigami stepped forth. "It's Muguruma-taichou!" several whispered.

"And it's Shuuhei Hisagi, too! The Ninth Division is full of such handsome men!" they squealed.

I had gotten word that my taichou would be Kensei Muguruma, one of the captains that were exiled in the World of the Living, and I vaguely remember someone important being named Hisagi, but I had never met either of them. Apparently they were good-looking enough to divert the attention of the crowd.

I took this opportunity to silently edge away from the crowd. I would have made it too, if it weren't for an iron grip that suddenly latched onto my shoulder. Slowly, I turned around to face a shinigami with tousled silver hair that slightly hung over scowling brown eyes. To my horror, I noticed he also wore a white captain's haori over his shihakusho, both sleeveless. And he looked seriously pissed off.

"Are you the bastard that's been causing this commotion in front of my office? I was trying to get some work done!" he demanded, lifting me in a few inches above the ground to face him. This must be the Kensei Muguruma that was to be my captain. What a great way to meet.

"Wait! Taichou! I think that's the new recruit!" another voice called out. We both turned to face another shinigami wearing a sleeveless shihakusho. I was beginning to think there was an overload of testosterone in this division. But before I could scoff at that, I found myself transfixed by the man's face, marked by three long, ragged lines. I should have flinched at the painful-looking scars, but my attention was captured by two tattoos found on the opposite cheek—one blue stripe above a "69" in black ink. His markings together with his strong features, which some could consider handsome, and tall form gave him a pretty intimidating appearance.

"Are you sure? He looks like a wimp," my taichou asked, snapping me out of my gawking.

"I am not a wimp!" I yelled indignantly. To prove my point, I kicked him hard in the stomach. Which was about as effective as kicking solid rock. Nevertheless, he set me down.

"What the heck are your abs made of?" I exclaimed as I rubbed my aching toes. _Are all the men in the Ninth Division ridiculously muscled?_

"Are you okay?" a voice beside me asked and I looked up to meet a warm smile from the tattooed man. _Odd,_ I thought. His tone and manner were practically the opposite of his appearance.

My taichou, who seemed to live up to his look, merely rolled his eyes. "Was that supposed to hurt or something? You kick like a girl, newbie." If only he knew.

"Is that a way a captain greets his new division members? No wonder you guys haven't had very many recruits lately," I retorted. I had a habit of blurting things out when I got angry. Muguruma-taichou's face darkened ominously.

"Why don't we show the new recruit around the Ninth Division?" the man I supposed was Hisagi suggested, quickly pulling me away from the captain. "And why don't you ladies come back later…please?" he told the crowd and winked at them. Several girls appeared to faint and had to be carried away. But thankfully, they left along with their Valentine's chocolates. I shivered slightly, wondering if I had ever been like them.

The strangely tattoed man led me to the Ninth Division barracks, leaving behind a fuming Muguruma. "I'm your fukutaichou, Shuuhei Hisagi. We don't bother very much with formalities here, so you can just call me Shuuhei," he said, still smiling.

"Then…I guess you should call me Ren," I muttered, feeling a strange floating sensation in my stomach. I had only ever called two people by their first names. Shuuhei nodded in response.

"You know, Ren, when first saw you, I thought you were a woman. I guess it's your face. It may be even girlier than Yumichika's," he said, grinning lightheartedly.

It felt as though I was suddenly doused in freezing cold water. _Was he joking? Did he already figure me out?_

Seeming to mistake my shock as anger, Shuuhei punched me lightly. "I'm just joking with you, new guy."

I breathed a sigh of relief and my heart resumed its beating. "Yeah, well I'm just joking when I say that you have an interesting taste in fashion, Mr. Matching-Choker-And-Armbands."

Hisagi continued on, chuckling to himself. "Well, Ren, these are the headquarters of the Seireitei Communication. I'm the chief editor. They're printing a special Valentine's article today," he said proudly, showing me a bustling office full of shingami running around with stacks of papers. "But," he said in a low voice, "let's get out of here before they decide to give me twenty more articles to sort out," and ushered me past the flurry of white.

We walked until we reached the barracks. "The building that you were mobbed at would be the taichou's office. Hey, I've been meaning to ask, do you know those girls?" he asked in a slightly reverent tone.

I chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of my neck, and odd habit of mine. "Not really. For some reason, they seem fond of mobbing me since I—" I began, but caught myself, "since I was in the Academy." Which was not entirely a lie.

"I'm pretty jealous," he admitted, running his fingers through his ridiculously unkempt hair, which stuck out in random directions. The overall effect was quite charming. Realizing that I was staring again, I coughed and mentally slapped myself.

"Don't be, I'm not interested in girls," I said and immediately regretted it as Hisagi raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I'm not interested in a relationship right now. That's exactly what I meant," I stammered.

He merely mumbled something before tapping on a door. "This is your room. It's not much, but-" he was cut off as I burst into the room, whooping like a maniac.

"Are you kidding me, this is awesome!" I shouted, flopping onto the bed, relishing in the fine fabric of the sheets.

Compared to what I was used to living in the Rukongai, this place was amazing, even more so than the Shinō Academy, where I had to deal with annoying roommates.

"I have a whole bed to myself!" I yelped and gave a genuine smile.

Hisagi muttered something again and turned around, his back facing me. "If you need anything, my quarters are in the next complex, second hall, the first room to the right," he said quickly and left in a whirl.

"What's his problem?" I asked myself, but the thought evaporated from my brain as I explored the rest of my room.

**88888888**

I was wandering around my room when I came across a mirror. I had never kept a mirror in my room before. Curious, I studied at the familiar, yet alien face gazing back at me.

For most of my life, I had kept my brown hair long, almost waist-length. I dreaded cutting it; for some reason I thought it helped me feel more pretty and feminine. So that was definitely the first thing to go. I fingered the foreign-feeling feathers of hair at the top of my head. It was now styled in an unruly short mess, with some strands hanging over my eyes, but I have to admit that my best friend Ruri did an excellent job cutting my hair. She had said that my main attractive feature was my eyes, but I didn't see anything special in my bluish eyes, other than the fact that they succeeded in warding people off when I was in a bad mood. I didn't have an overly feminine face, but my long eyelashes sometimes made other guys ask if I wore makeup or something.

I stared down at the rest of my body, enrobed in a loose shihakusho that concealed any womanish figure. Not that I had such a womanish figure in the first place. Nevertheless, I was careful to wear constricting bandages underneath a high-necked shitagi. I was a tall girl, but only average in height as a guy. It seemed that when I cross-dressed as a guy, however, I attracted more attention than I had ever received as a girl.

_He_ said I was plain and old-fashioned, that I wasn't cute or charming. _He _was the cause of my drastic appearance change and my gender masquerading. _He _was my best friend from childhood, my crush since I was little, my boyfriend, and at one time, even my fiancée. Just thinking about the way he casually, almost gleefully dismissed me four years ago made me tremble in rage even now.

**~8~**

_I was trembling in excitement. Today was the day I would finally see Ryota again. I had known him since we were born in the Soul Society. We grew up together and I had loved him since I could remember. He was working on becoming a shinigami at the Shinō Academy. Before he left, he had given me a ring, promising to come back to marry me. "We'll be together, forever," he had said, "So don't forget me." I blushed thinking about the intensity of his gaze at that moment. _

_When Ryota announced he was leaving for the Shinō Academy, everyone was happy for him, but I still felt a pang of sadness. Sure, I was proud that Ryota was amazing enough to be accepted into such an elite school, but nevertheless, we would see each other less and less. Today was one of the days when he had a break from school and visited me. It was close to his graduation time now—he mentioned it every time we talked. _

_After cleaning up and making sure I was as ladylike as possible, I dashed to our usual meeting place—a bench in front of a large tree behind a simple school in Rukongai. We used to run up and down the streets, always stopping to see who could climb to the top of the tree. I smiled recalling those times. _

_But I found the spot deserted. Feeling slightly dejected, I wandered around until I heard a noise behind the tree. I wandered around the great trunk of the old tree until I chanced upon Ryota. I tensed up, feeling excited again. _

_My gait grew slower as I approached him, my brain whirring as I tried to process what was before me. There, in the shade of the great tree, next to Ryota, sat a woman I had never seen before. _

_I watched as she giggled, tossing her glossy black hair. I wanted to yell at her for sitting so close to the man I was going to marry, but my cry died in my throat as Ryota moved closer to the woman, letting his hand rest on the small of her back. I stared in horror as she shifted over so that her kimono just barely slipped off a shoulder. _

_And I kept watching as he cupped her chin, bringing their lips closer and closer until, finally, they met. The world seemed to fade into black and white as he tilted his head, his hand moving to tangle itself in her hair. My eyes began to sting as I realized he was kissing her, that my first and only love was kissing another woman under our tree—the lovely tree which held so many fond memories. I couldn't help but freeze, standing there lamely, feeling as though my chest was collapsing on itself._

"_Ryota?" I heard myself say. _

_I started as the two broke apart, two pairs of eyes looking up to meet mine. "Who is she?" the woman asked, fixing her dress and staring at me with clear disdain. I wanted to scream at her, to ask her who she thought she was to do that…to kiss him, but I just shook my head._

"_Oh, it's just Ren," he said, with a smug look. There was no regret, no embarrassment, and none of the cheerful personality that usually bubbled from Ryota. I didn't know this person, with such cold eyes. _

"_Why is she just standing there?" the woman asked, snickering._

_He smirked. "She's my childhood friend. She's probably shocked senseless. After all, she's been in love with me since we were children."_

_I felt tears roll down my cheeks, despite my efforts to hold them in. My whole life was crumbling around me. _

_The woman laughed again. "Oh, she's crying now. She probably actually thought she stood a chance with you." She stopped laughing abruptly. "Did she stand a chance?" she asked._

_Now it was his turn to laugh. "Please. I would never go out with such an ugly, plain girl. She was just a little…diversion—a plaything. She could practically be a boy for all I care."_

"_Was it all fake, Ryota?" I demanded, angrily rubbing away my tears. "Was the time you helped me search for Ruri's cat fake? Was the time we decided to swim in the river and the fun we had racing and climbing up trees—especially this tree—all fake? When you said that we'd always be together?"_

_He hesitated for a moment, but responded icily, "They don't mean anything to me now." He paused and scowled. "So just stop crying and get lost. You're so annoying. And don't bother to come to the graduation, either. You'd just embarrass me."_

_Something inside me clicked, like a sudden light shone down from the clouds to clear my thoughts. I suddenly understood him, his true nature. My tears ceased immediately and my miserable expression morphed into a crooked grin. I began chuckling, causing both of them to stare at me in alarm. _

"_So you say that you used me, huh? That I'm embarrassing, annoying? That your childhood friend is too ugly, too plain, too boyish, to even be considered a girl, let alone someone with feelings?" I said, slowly advancing toward them, and the woman only clung tighter to Ryota._

"_I'll make it my goal to destroy you, Ryota," I growled, my hands clenched into fists. _

_He scoffed at my threat, waving me aside. "You're a weak woman, what can you do?" _

"_Yeah. A weak woman," I snorted and then snapped back at him. "Then...I won't be a woman anymore. I'll lower myself down to your cheating, filthy, lying level. And I'll still destroy you," I snarled. _

_To prove my point, I slammed my fist into the tree, centimeters away from Ryota's head. Ryota and I had always possessed a higher Spiritual Power than most of the Rukongai residents that we encountered. Where Ryota had flaunted his powers, I simply kept mine hidden, partly out of the fear that Ryota might dislike me. But now, I felt the bonds sealing my reiatsu shatter as I poured some power into the punch. Lightning-like reiatsu crackled ominously and ran up the tree, while Ryota swallowed nervously. _

_Then, I simply turned around and walked away, comforted by the satisfying thud of a fallen tree. _

**~8~**

Just remembering his smug face made me want to set something on fire, but I restrained myself. I admit I was partly to blame for grief wrought on me, for being such a naive teenage girl that fell hopelessly in love, ignoring all of his faults.

After pondering my new goal, I had decided to go to the Shinō Academy to train to be a shinigami, as a male, of course. I have to admit, I was a pretty good student. I had willed my way through the courses, completing the normally six year course in three years, as well as the Gotei 13 entrance test, despite my difficulty with tests and school in general. But when I discovered that Ryota was a seated officer in the Ninth Division, I knew this was the perfect opportunity for revenge.

I fingered the ring that Ryota had given me, strung on a necklace that I tucked into my shihakusho. It was the only piece of jewelry that I ever wore. I kept it as a reminder of my goal, as well as the dangers of "love". Despite my hardships, I refused to let _him_ destroy this happy moment and pushed away murderous thoughts for a few moments.

I was finally a shinigami, with my own division, and my own room. I allowed myself one more girly outburst before I sank back onto the bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

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><p><strong>AN: So, that was the first chapter. As you can see, the main character, Ren Moriyama (or Moriyama Ren—whichever way you like names) is an emotionally scarred person, quite like a certain scarred fukutaichou. She is a bit of a tsundere, and I apologize for being clichéd. Sorry, I like the "strong woman" type character, so don't expect too many "damsel in distress" moments. Don't even start on the "bridal-style carry". By the way, I plan to parody that in this story. **

**And, as always, constructive criticism in appreciated. **

**(In other words, please review!)**

**-CodenameOokami**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for taking so long in updating. I've been kind of busy with my other fanfiction that I started before this one, Enveloped in Sakura. But anyways, here's the second chapter. I apologize in advance for any unsatisfactory writing.**

**REWRITTEN: As of 09/02/2013**

Chapter 2

The cozy warmth of the blanket fastened me to the luxuriously comfortable bed as surely as any restraints. I breathed in the scent of clean bed sheets and rolled across the bed wrapped in my blankets like a deranged worm. And promptly thudded to the floor. "Gack!" I cried, still entangled in the blankets.

I glanced around the room and tried to remember what happened yesterday. I fingered the ring that was strung around my necklace, something that I did subconsciously whenever I was deep in thought.

"Right, yesterday was when I officially joined the Ninth Division," I reminded myself. "And four years since _that_," I added.

Despite the time that had, passed my hatred for Ryota had never faded. A glimpse of his smug face rammed through my thoughts, causing me to quickly boil over. I yanked off the necklace, hurling it at the opposite wall.

"Burn in hell, you bastard! I haven't forgotten about my promise! I will destroy you!" I screamed. I tried to stand up, but I had forgotten about the cocoon of bed sheets wrapped around me, so I crashed into the hard, wooden floor once again.

Spewing some colorful language, I struggled to untangle myself when I heard footsteps approach and my door blast open.

"Yo, Ren! It's already morning. I forgot to mention, today is…" began a male voice, but the speaker trailed off. From my upside down position, I could only see the speaker's feet. Wriggling around, I forced myself into an upright position, and met the eyes of my fukutaichou.

Holding a plate of steaming food, Shuuhei stared at me with raised eyebrows. "If this is a bad time…"

"I can explain!" I spluttered and climbed to my feet.

"I see, you're going to be one of those type of recruits," he sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"The type where I have to watch them to make sure they won't trip over their own feet and kill themselves."

"Hey, I'm not that clueless!" I protested. "I'm usually very—ahh!" My feet got tangled in the blanket cocoon and I plummeted toward the floor once again, only to be caught rather ungracefully by Shuuhei. In one hand he held the plate of food and in the other, he grabbed a fistful of the cursed material that I just couldn't free myself from.

"Uh-huh," he said sarcastically, setting me upright. Feeling very stupid, I extricated myself from the bed sheet prison, dumping the fabric in an untidy pile on the floor. I was very glad that I was still wearing my shihakusho, with my binding sarashi wrap.

"Is that omurice?" I asked, distracted from any further embarrassment by a familiar delicious smell.

"Yeah, I just thought, since you're a new division member and all, I—," Shuuhei mumbled abashedly, but was cut off by my exclamation.

"Did you cook that yourself?" I asked in a reverent tone.

"Um, I cooked it really quickly. I know it's not much, but—" he began modestly.

"Are you kidding me? It looks amazing!" I interrupted. Despite its simplicity, the food gleamed with the perfection of a professional chef. The golden omelet seemed to radiate its own light. Even the ketchup that decorated the top of the meal was crafted with skillful precision. It read "_Welcome to the Ninth Division! :)_".

"Well, stop standing here and drooling! Go ahead and eat it."

I stared at the dish that he pushed into my hands, almost hesitant to mar the breakfast. But the grumbling in my stomach overcame any reservation and I tore into the meal. "It's so good," I said through a mouthful. In a matter of minutes, I had cleaned the plate.

"I've never seen someone eat that quickly," he commented. I smiled self-consciously and wiped some remaining rice off of my face.

"That was a great snack, but is there more food?" I asked.

Shuuhei looked at me with an odd expression, but shook his head and said, "There's more food in the mess hall, but I came to tell you that that your placement test is going to begin soon."

I must have looked severely confused, because he continued to explain. "A placement test determines your rank in a division, your seat. Every squad does their exams differently."

"I hate tests," I hissed, scowling.

"Oh this isn't a regular test," he said, chuckling darkly. "Basically, if you survive, you pass."

**88888888**

"What's going on? Why are we on a training field?" I asked, surveying the area. I was told to bring my zanpakuto and accompany Shuuhei to the testing site. Circling the field was a group of other Ninth Division members, all muttering to each other.

I followed closely behind, Shuuhei, slightly frustrated that I couldn't see past his shoulder. As I passed the other shinigami, I heard snippets of their conversation.

"How long do you think this one will last?" one blue-haired shinigami asked.

His companion snickered. "I give him a minute, no, actually, make it thirty seconds. He looks weak."

Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to Shuuhei. "Can we get this over with quickly? I'm hungry." To prove my point, my stomach grumbled loudly.

Instead of answering, Shuuhei, stopped suddenly, causing me to crash into him headfirst. "Are all of the Division 9 members made of rock or something?" I complained, remembering when I had attempted to kick my taichou, which had nearly broken my foot.

When I looked up, I saw the said taichou standing in the middle of the practice area with a pissed off look, which seemed to be his standard expression.

"What took you so long? Your test was supposed to begin ten minutes ago, wimp!" Muguruma-taichou bellowed.

"Someone doesn't have any patience," I muttered, but tensed when I heard his last comment. "I told you not to call me a wimp, old man!" I yelled back.

My taichou's face contorted into a murderous grin. "My hair is silver, not white!" he roared.

"That's what insecure old men say about their balding hair!" I retorted. Several other shinigami had to grab him by the shoulders to restrain him.

"Can we just stop bickering for a minute?" Shuuhei said, holding his hands up. "The point of being here is to hold Ren's, er, Moriyama-san's placement test."

Muguruma-taichou brushed off the other shinigami. "I'll make this quick, then. I have much more important things to than to listen to weaklings yap their heads off."

"Wait, I'm confused. Let me get this straight. I have to fight that old man?" I asked exasperatedly, motioning to my captain.

Shuuhei smiled widely. "Yep," he mused. "You're allowed to use kido, shunpo, your zanpakuto, pretty much anything not illegal. The objective is to stay alive, preferably for more than ten minutes."

"I'm going to enjoy this," Muguruma said, cracking his knuckles ominously. "Sorry, but I'm not very mature. I can't really hold back, no matter who my opponent is."

"You guys are crazy!" I shouted.

"If you think this is crazy, then you should try the Eleventh Division," Shuuhei muttered, shuddering.

Seeing no way out this, I sighed and braced myself to begin fighting.

"I'm not going to use my zanpakuto, so try to last more than five seconds, wimp," my taichou said. True to his word, he placed the blade on the ground.

Gritting my teeth, I drew my zanpakuto. "You're going to regret that, gramps," I said. Several of the shinigami observing sniggered.

"Okay. The test begins…now!" Shuuhei announced.

Immediately, a suffocating reiatsu exploded from my captain, making me shudder from the sheer ferocity of the energy. I gripped the hilt of my sword tighter.

My taichou made the first move, or at least I assumed he moved, because he disappeared from my sight. "Crap," I muttered, trying to steady myself for a coming attack. I didn't even follow the punch that slammed into my gut, sending me flying. I quickly righted myself so I landed on my feet, skidding backwards. But I didn't even have time to catch my breath as he launched another barrage of blows at me, each faster than the last. I managed to dodge the first couple, but soon, I was knocked back another few feet, stumbling. I heard some of the observers laugh, which made me bare my teeth in a soundless snarl.

"Concentrate!" ordered my taichou. He was right. I was being distracted by the outsiders, not paying attention to the rhythm of his attacks. "I already knew that!" I snarled. I couldn't rely solely on sight to block his attacks. Instead, I closed my eyes and placed my trust in my instinct. When I opened them, it was as if the world had cleared. This time, I was ready for Muguruma-taichou's kick.

"Shunpo time!" I yelped and caught the blow. Proceeding to use shunpo, I dodged all of his next attacks. "I can see you now," I growled. It was time that I started to counterattack, but I knew I couldn't just blindly lunge back at him. This had to be done skillfully. Well, my strongest advantage was surprise. From what I heard in the crowd, they expected a sound beating. And my taichou was constantly calling me "wimp". It was time to use that to my benefit.

I feinted a strike to his left side, which he anticipated and tried to block, which gave me time for my first attack. I flash-stepped to his right and sent a powerful kick toward his head. "Nice try," he sneered and caught my leg, but I had already swung under his arm with my zanpakuto and sliced him in the side. Then, I quickly flipped the sword and slammed the hilt into his arm, which made him release my leg. The crowd gasped as blood seeped through my captain's haori, staining the pristine white fabric. Mugurua-taichou simply smirked and cast off the extra garment.

Suddenly, he launched a flurry of attacks faster than any of his previous, as if mine had caused him to speed up. The abruptness of the attacks caught me off guard and I was struck with a series of agonizing blows. "Don't think you've won just because you landed one hit!" my taichou roared. The following punch slammed straight into my diaphragm, knocking the air out of my lungs. The next flood of attacks succeeded in pummeling the senses out of me. I flew backwards, and crashed into the ground with my zanpakuto landing a short distance away from my hand.

I tried to rein in my panic as my vision began to blur. "That's disappointing. So you really are all bark and no bite. Wimp," he scoffed, his form towering over me in my fuzzy sight. "Damn," I choked out. At this rate, I was close to being finished. When he turned away, however, I started laughing, though I probably sounded like a strangled cat. "I don't want to lose yet," I rasped.

And then memories of _him_ flashed through my head. His smug face. His haughty laughter. His cold eyes. _"Weak woman,_" he boomed, causing me to clench my fists. Once again, I felt the buildup of anger and spiritual energy. I staggered to my feet, leaving my zanpakuto lying on the ground.

"I'm really getting sick of you calling me 'wimp'!" I shouted, causing my taichou to wheel around. With a wild roar, I vaulted towards him, launching a flying kick. He threw up his hands to intercept the attack, but I willed my spiritual power to augment the blow and broke through his defenses. The kick smashed into his face, causing him to lurch back.

"I knew you were more annoying than that," he said, grinning through the blood leaking from his forehead.

Matching his crooked smirk, I let my spiritual power burst from its constraints, letting it envelop my body. This time, I launched the volley of attacks, each more powerful than the last. With each of my jumps in spiritual energy, my captain increased his. We exchanged furious blows, and I relied purely on instinct to block and attack. But while my power was reaching its limits, my captain's only seemed to surge higher.

I sensed the ensuing punch and tried to block it, but to no avail. The gap in our abilities was still too large. It struck my chest and reverberated through my body, finally dispersing into the air like crackling lightning. I crumpled to the ground, knowing that this time, I didn't have the strength to fight anymore.

"Time!" I heard Shuuhei shout distantly. "Hmm…seventeen minutes!" he announced.

My taichou grunted in approval. "Take him to the infirmary," he told Shuuhei and shunpoed off the training field. The shinigami surrounding the battle began to scatter, all murmuring excitedly.

Before Shuuhei could help me up though, I managed to pull myself into an upright position. "Wait!" I cried, "I want to eat first!"

"You can barely even stand," he protested.

"But you said that I could eat when this test was over," I reminded him. "And besides, I used up a lot of energy." When he began to object, I glared sharply. "Food. Now."

Shuuhei regarded me with a strange look, but gave in. "Fine," he sighed. He muttered darkly and I caught snippets that sounded like "stab himself in the foot" and "bloody Chihuahua".

"Yay! I want ten bowls of ramen!" I yelled eagerly, springing to my feet. "And you're treating, of course," I quipped, smiling widely.

"One mention of food and you're energized again, even after getting beaten to a pulp by Muguruma-taichou," he remarked.

"Hey! I managed to get in some good attacks!" I pointed out. "But whatever," I said impatiently, "take me to the best ramen stand in town!"

**88888888**

"Another bowl, please!" I waved to the cook.

"That's your sixth bowl!" Shuuhei exclaimed.

"But not the tenth yet," I reminded him.

The cook, a portly middle-aged man, smiled good-naturedly and spooned out another steaming bowl of ramen. "Youngsters these days," he commented and passed me the bowl.

"You're going to bankrupt me, Ren," Shuuhei complained and started to put money on the counter.

"No, it's okay," the cook said firmly. "I find it amusing to see how much this little fellow can eat," he explained, "and it does make me happy to see someone enjoy my ramen as much as he does."

Shuuhei thanked the cook and turned to me, a shocked expression on his face. I stopped slurping the soup, already a quarter finished.

"I said I was hungry," I said, already anticipating his question.

"But you're so small," he mumbled, but immediately regretted it when I glared daggers at him.

"Listen," I growled, pointing my chopsticks at him, "I'm not that much shorter than you," I snapped.

Shuuhei held his hands up in apology, though he had a goofy grin on his face.

"And why did you call me Chihuahua earlier?" I demanded.

"Well," he began, face slowly reddening, "when I first met you, you reminded me of a small dog, especially when you were bickering with the taichou. You were loud, like a smaller dog barking at a large dog."

I narrowed my eyes. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"But, despite how large the other dog was, you didn't back down. And you surprised everyone with your bite, too."

"How poetic. The first compliment I get from my fukutaichou compares me to a loud, vicious, small dog," I grumbled angrily, but I have to admit that I was slightly pleased. "But how do you think I did on the, uh, test?"

Shuuhei suddenly became serious. "For starters, you need to learn how to properly control your spiritual power. If you want to advance in the division, you must learn to fight as a partner to your zanpakuto. It was pretty reckless to attack the taichou without your partner."

I clutched the ramen bowl, staring into the swirling depths. "I did that badly, huh?"

"No, actually you did pretty well," he said cheerily. "You still managed to last seventeen minutes, as well as land some pretty good attacks. You'll probably be assigned to a seated position. Taking your record into account, finishing Shinō Academy at the head of the Special Accelerated Program, and in four years too…plus your scores on the entrance exam, I suppose you'll start as Sixth Seat. That's impressive, especially for a new recruit."

"Oh," I said simply. "What's the longest anyone lasted against the taichou?"

"Twenty-eight minutes, by the Third Seat. He's pretty new, too. He only joined four years ago."

I began to get a nauseous feeling. "Who exactly is the Third Seat?" I asked suspiciously, tightening my grip on the ramen bowl.

"His name is Kaneko, Ryota Kaneko."

Scalding soup exploded over the front of my shihakusho, and sharp pieces of the ceramic bowl stabbed into my hand. Without realizing it, I had grasped the bowl so tensely that it had shattered. Spewing plenty of choice words, I scrambled to clean up the mess. Shuuhei apologized to the cook, who waved off his attempts to repay him for the broken bowl.

"Are you okay, son?" the cook asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I muttered. So he was the Third Seat. I was beaten by him once again.

Once we had cleaned up the mess and stumbled over more apologies, Shuuhei led me back to the barracks.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" he asked concernedly. When I shook my head, Shuuhei suddenly grabbed my hands. "They're bleeding," he said grimly.

I pulled my hands back. "C'mon. I got a worse beating from the taichou. What I'm worried about is this shihakusho. Now I smell like soup broth," I complained.

Even though he glanced at me critically, he relented. "I think there's a spare shihakusho in your size around here somewhere." He shunpoed away, and returned shortly with the extra clothing. I nodded appreciatively and took the change of clothes.

"I guess I'll show you to the bath house," he sighed and ran a hand through his short, dark hair.

"Bath!" I squealed and dashed inside my room to grab some soap and towels. When I dashed outside, I found that Shuuhei had also collected his bath items.

I froze, clinging to the black fabric of the spare shihakusho. "Wait, you're bathing, too?" I asked jumpily.

"What's the problem? I want to wash up, too. Besides, I have a feeling you'll drown yourself or something."

Crap, how do I get out of this problem? I gulped nervously. "I have a really awkward scar, it's quite embarrassing. Really nasty." I gushed, the first excuse that came to mind. "Trust me; you don't want to see the scar."

"So?" Crap! Why did he have to be such a nice guy?

"Actually…I have a fear of bathing with strangers," I said, starting to panic.

"I'm your fukutaichou. And you call me by first name," he pointed out.

"That's only because you told me to!"

"Why are you so freaked out?" he asked, but then broke out into a smug grin. "Oh, you're scared that I'm _manlier_ than you are. That would explain why you got angry when I called you 'small' earlier."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't worry, I'll sit in the stall farthest away from you," he said, ruffling my hair.

Seeing no way out of this situation, I followed behind Shuuhei, shoulders slumped in defeat.

_It's all over now. He'll find out I'm a girl and it'll all be over. My chance for revenge has disappeared in the wind. God, I'm such a loser_, I thought to myself.

When we stopped in front of the bath house however, there were signs covering the entrance. I read them excitedly. "Sorry, closed for today!" I crowed triumphantly. Maybe I wasn't such a loser, after all!

"Eh? It's closed? I guess we'll have to go to the onsen, then," Shuuhei said.

"You've got to be kidding me!" I shouted in exasperation.

Shuuhei marched to the hot springs, practically dragging me behind him. I wasn't paying much attention to Shuuhei's lively conversation about the Seireitei Communication, instead wallowing in trepidation.

Each and every step closer to the onsen, I told myself, was a step closer to my doom.

**A/N: So, Ren is quite a tight spot right now. **

**To be honest, I wasn't sure how to write the fight scene with her and Muguruma-taichou. I didn't want to make her ridiculously strong, but I wanted to show that she has potential. Did I succeed?**

**I wasn't exactly sure how to make Hisagi, either. According to my knowledge, he's a pretty nice guy. In the Bleach Official Bootleg, it is said that he is an excellent cook. His favorite food is Vienna sausages, and he apparently doesn't like sea urchins. Talk about random information. **

**And also, constructive criticism is appreciated. **

**-CodenameOokami**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well, after a long period of brain-dead-ness, I finally completed the third chapter of this story. I think it's coming along quite nicely, easier to write than Enveloped in Sakura. I apologize for the long delay. Even though I had so much time during spring break, I was preoccupied with reading other fanfics, watching a bunch of anime, doing homework, and practicing for State Solo and Ensemble. I know it's no excuse, though. I'm so unorganized! **

**And also, thanks to all that reviewed. I was seriously surprised to find more than one review. You should have seen my reaction, I was so ridiculously happy! In fact, I have dedicated this author's note to you…**

**Reverence of the Night Rain: Thank you so much for writing my very first review. I have a section of my profile dedicated to thanking you. (bow down) **

**Red Chicken: Your review was delightfully inspiring. I tried to take your advice and extend my chapter a bit.**

**MaxInu23: Yeah, I love OCs too. After all, the main characters in this story is an OC. **

**Mills87: Thank you for your praise. It encouraged me to keep writing through periods of writer's block. **

**VampireSiren: I don't really watch Fushigi Yuugi, but I'm contemplating watching it after your review. I was always fascinated by tomboyish girl characters, especially ones that cross-dressed, so I guess Hana-Kimi is a bit of an inspiration for this fanfic. **

**WednesdayRabbit: I believe your review was probably the most interesting. I had this story on mind for a while, too. Maybe we're twins separated at birth! I feel so cool now. **

**Now that I've had a chance to spew my gratitude, here's the next chapter. I apologize in advance for any unsatisfactory writing.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 3<p>

"Crap, hypothermia!" I muttered through chattering teeth. "I'm going to freeze to death before I can figure out how to get out of this situation." Crouching on a toilet seat in the bathroom stall, I rubbed my arms in a feeble attempt to generate warmth.

In a last-ditch effort to avoid getting in the hot springs with Shuuhei, which would require much mutual nakedness, I had shouted some lame excuse about having to use the bathroom and dashed into the men's restroom. I didn't anticipate how freaking cold it would be in there, though.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. "Extra towels!" I yelped, but my hopes were extinguished when I realized that all of my bath items, as well as all my clothes, were currently sitting in a basket in the locker room. I had managed to flash-change, a practice that I had mastered in the Shinō Academy, into a yukata before leaving the locker room. Unfortunately, the fabric was a tad bit thin and about three sizes too big.

I just had to wait it out in this refrigerator until Shuuhei finished up in the onsen. "I can do this," I told myself, "but it would be helpful if I had a fire or something." It was then when I had a genius idea. "Fire…kido!" I pieced together.

Concentrating, I whispered, "Hado 31: Shakkaho." Surely enough, a red energy began to erupt from my fingertips. I willed it to become a small orb, and relished the newfound warmth.

"Hey, are you finished in there?" a man's voice asked on the other side of the locked bathroom stall. The suddenness of the question almost made me lose control of the kido, but I quickly reined it in.

"Er, no!" I squeaked. "I'm having _trouble,_" I added, with strained grunting to seem more convincing.

"Ok, ok. Too much information," he said and backed away quickly.

I sighed in relief. Now, with the kido furnace, the bathroom was much tolerable. In fact, the coolness of the bathroom, the relative warmth, and the loose yukata was starting to feel very comfortable. As minutes ticked by, I felt my eyes begin to grow heavy. As I grew sleepier, my concentration began to ebb, making my kido grow volatile. I didn't even notice sparks of energy begin to shoot off the orb.

"REN!" a familiar voice shouted, surprising me out of my near unconsciousness.

"Wah!" I screamed, startled out of my senses. Unfortunately, the shock was enough to cause me to lose enough control of the orb of energy.

The resulting explosion was probably felt from a block away.

Through the smoke, I spotted Shuuhei picking his way through the rubble. "What the—" he began, but caught sight of me. "Ren, are you okay?" he asked, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"I'm okay," I said, slightly ashamed. I surveyed the damage my kido had taken on the bathroom, or rather the entire building. "But I don't think the rest of the onsen is."

There were several people running around, looking for some sort of cover or clothing. Needless to say, I wouldn't be the only one scarred from this onsen trip. Thankfully, Shuuhei was wearing a yukata, similar to one the one I had on. Unlike my yukata, his fitwell and he looked quite…nice? I shook my head, muttering about smoke inhalation.

Wait a minute, I thought, and glanced down at my own yukata. To my horror, I realized that the front had been singed off during the explosion. Quickly, I smashed myself on the floor, lying face down.

"What are you doing?" Shuuhei asked. I looked up and noticed the expression on his, realizing how ridiculous I must have looked. Then, I remembered that the sarashi wrap was still covering my chest. Feeling incredibly foolish, I peeled myself off the floor and dusted off my yukata, still being careful not to face him. "I, uh, tripped over something," I muttered lamely. "There was a rock and, uh, yeah…" I trailed off, twirling my fingers awkwardly. If he didn't think I was a major klutz before…

"I don't think I ever had this much trouble with a new recruit," Shuuhei sighed. "I come into check up on you because, you know, normal people don't spend two and a half hours in a bathroom, especially when they're at an onsen, not to mention your reiatsu was beginning to go out of control. But then you decide to go and try to blow yourself up. And here I thought your only danger was passing out in the hot springs."

"I demand to know what happened in here!" screeched a woman in a stately-looking kimono, interrupting my attempt to come up with a reasonable excuse. She zeroed in on me, like a vulture that caught sight of carrion. "Were you the one that caused the explosion?" she squawked, gesticulating wildly. Without waiting for my response, she began to rant. "I knew I shouldn't have opened up my business to filthy commoners! Now you've gone and destroyed my onsen! I should have you executed for your uncivilized behavior!"

"I'm deeply sorry, ma'am. It was a complete accident," I tried, but this only seemed to enrage her further.

"You think a simple apology from you filth will be enough?" she shrieked. "Hah, this is a plea for mercy. I know you do not have enough money to pay for the repairs. You can labor here for the rest of your life and still not pay off your debt! Maybe, if you get down on your knees and beg, I will reduce your sentence to seventy years."

I suppose my anger had seeped into my reiatsu, because Shuuhei suddenly stepped between me and the woman. "Excuse me, ma'am," Shuuhei began, his voice completely calm amidst the chaos. "I am Shuuhei Hisagi, fukutaichou of the Ninth Division of the Gotei 13."

The woman whirled on him. "A shinigami fukutaichou? Then you may punish this commoner filth for causing all of this mayhem."

"Ma'am, he is a member of my division, a seated shinigami in his own right." The woman's eyes widened and she took a few steps backward.

"As his superior, I am ready to take full responsibility for his actions," he said in the same even tone. "And as a citizen that came from the Rukongai, I can assure you that we _lower class_ have the utmost respect for you and your business." Though he continued amicably, but I sensed a hint of steel in his voice.

The woman laughed nervously. "I didn't mean that, I was just caught up with my emotions."

"Then you may take up your complaints with the head of the Ninth Division. We have enough funds to repair the facilities. I will be glad to inform my taichou of our encounter," Shuuhei said in the same deceptively calm manner. He bowed and steered me away from the woman, to the half-demolished locker room. While Shuuhei was busy collecting his items, I grabbed the extra shihakusho and flash-changed into it, feeling much calmer afterwards.

"I'm sorry to cause you so much trouble, Hisagi-fukutaichou, especially on my second day," I said, focusing on the floor.

"Hey, I thought I told you to call me Shuuhei," he chided. "I had a feeling that if I didn't say anything, that the situation would have exploded. Well, even more so."

"Was it really that obvious?" I asked, finally meeting his eyes.

"Are you kidding me? You let your emotions pour into your reiatsu. You're like an open book," he said, grinning crookedly.

"I have a feeling that I should be offended," I huffed, folding my arms.

"C'mon, Chihuahua," he quipped, ruffling my hair. "We have to go talk to the taichou about this situation."

I grimaced. "Do we have to?" I whined. Something told me that Muguruma-taichou would not be especially pleased with the update.

"It's better to deal with this before he finds out through a written complaint. He shouldn't be _that _angry. You should see what the Eleventh Division does on a daily basis, and that's without taking their taichou into account."

**88888888**

"I thought you said he wouldn't be angry," I said, pointing accusingly at Shuuhei. It had taken nearly all of the man's power to prevent Muguruma-taichou from drawing his zanpakuto. I was surprised he didn't resort to using kido.

"He was just mildly annoyed," Shuuhei snorted, waving his hand dismissively.

"You call that 'mildly annoyed'? He looked like he was he was going to go bankai on me. I'm surprised he still kept his decision to make me Sixth Seat."

Shuuhei shrugged and continued walking toward the barracks. "Well, even if you're a total klutz, you still did pretty well on the test."

I glared at him through narrowed eyes. "I am NOT a klutz." I enunciated. "I don't know, just when I'm around you, accidents start happening," I added, feeling somewhat self-conscious.

"So it's all my fault?" he joked, grinning widely.

"Hey, what does that—" I began, but slammed into a hard object. "Watch where you're going!" I hissed after realizing that I had run into yet another Division 9 member.

"Sorry about that! I didn't see you there!" said a voice that rang through my head, stirring up dark memories. With my stomach churning as if it were full of thrashing snakes, I slowly glanced upwards, feeling burning recognition. 

"You must be the new recruit, the one that made Sixth Seat so quickly," he mused, an innocent smile on his lips. There, smiling, as if to spite me—to mock me—was _him._ Unbridled fury coursed through me as I scanned the man's familiar features, remembering the casually messy blonde hair, the charming pearly white smile, the almost unnoticeable scar on his cheek, and the warm brown eyes. And yet, I knew that behind this pleasant exterior was an arrogant, cold-hearted worm that delighted in my misery.

"I'm the Third Seat, Ryota Kaneko. I didn't catch your name," he said amiably, still smiling, and offered me an apologetic handshake. I was tempted to simply kick him in the face, but for some reason, I was curious about his reaction.

"Really? You don't remember me _at all_?" I asked in a low, dangerous manner.

"I'm sorry, maybe you got me mixed up with the wrong person. I believe we've just met," he said in the same friendly tone.

"My name is REN!" I spat, my hand inching toward my zanpakuto, only to realize that it was currently in my room, along with the ring that used to symbolize love and other nonsense, but now served as a focus point for my revenge.

He paused for a minute. "Ren?" he said softly, as if trying to recall a distant memory. "I used to know a Ren, you know." A dark, inscrutable emotion flashed across his face, but disappeared when he fixed his features into that ridiculously charming smile. "But the Ren that I knew was a girl," he said, pointing at my flattened chest. "And I never expect to see her again," he said jokingly and his smile twisted into something of a haughty grin. This was the Ryota that I wanted so desperately to destroy.

I could sense Shuuhei coming closer behind me, but thought nothing of it. "One of those crazy, clingy girlfriends," he continued. Was this guy just stupid or did he not sense the killer reiatsu I was emitting? "I knew her for a long time. She was so hopelessly in love with me." He stopped and chuckled. "Talk about emotional females. When she caught me in a, uh, compromising situation with one of my other girlfriends, she completely flipped. I mean, this chick went psycho and started ranting about how she would 'destroy me' and crap like that."

He placed a hand on my shoulder, not noticing that it shaking from barely controlled rage. "Let me give you some advice new guy, never try a girl that goes on about 'love' and stuff like that. You'll only regret it later."

It was then when my fury broke free from any constraints. "You selfish bastard!" I screeched and tensed, preparing a flurry of blows that would wipe that infuriating grin off of his face. But before I even got to launch one attack, I felt strong arms reach from behind me. My eyes widened as they gripped me tightly, preventing me from moving my arms. "Shuuhei! Let go of me!" I snarled, but the imprisoning arms only circled around me tighter.

"It wouldn't be wise to attack a fellow division member, particularly the Third Seat. Especially after your incident in the hot springs a couple hours ago," Shuuhei whispered. "Sorry about that Kaneko-san. Ren got into an accident today and he might not be feeling well," he said to Ryota in an apologetic manner. Meanwhile, I struggled viciously, squirming and writhing in attempt to free myself.

Ryota nodded knowingly and began to walk away. "See you later Ren-san, Hisagi-san." Before I could even utter some nice swearwords or insults, he disappeared in a flash of shunpo.

"You can let me go now," I snarled, but he still refused to relinquish his iron grip.

"As long as you promise to not run off and attack the Third Seat," he said calmly, despite my slew of curses.

"That bastard deserves to get his face spleen ripped out through his nose!" I argued. When he still did not budge, I slowed my struggling. "I'm warning you. I hate it when people touch me," I said through clenched teeth.

"I don't care. Just promise not to do something stupid," he repeated. "Again."

I seriously considered biting his arm or employing some of several violent lock-breaking techniques, but in the end, I felt my seething anger begin to wane and I sighed in frustration.

"Fine, I promise not to attack Ryota," I grumbled and Shuuhei slowly uncoiled his arms. Immediately, I span around and gave him a sucker punch to the stomach. Though my hand throbbed in pain, I was satisfied to find that he had at least flinched.

"That was for invading my personal space," I retorted.

Shuuhei held his hands up in an apologetic gesture. "Look, I was trying to prevent you from getting into more trouble with the taichou. Don't forget that you're already on probation for blowing up the onsen," he said lightly, but then his voice darkened, along with his visage. "You owe me a whole crapload of explanations—the most important being your problem with Kaneko-san." He stepped forward with such an intense, inscrutable expression that I shivered slightly, feeling like a cornered rabbit.

Paling, I took a few steps backward. "Look, today has been a _very_ long day and I'm _very_ tired. So…good night!" I blurted and dashed back into my room using shunpo, slamming the door. Panicking, I pushed my dresser I front of the door, barricading the entrance. I slid down to my knees, beginning to hyperventilate. Raging emotions swirled in my brain and I struggled to calmly separate them.

"What if he finds about me? About Ryota?" I whispered to myself. The simplest thing to do would to just confess to Shuuhei—that I was a girl, that I had become a shinigami in order to exact revenge on Ryota. "As if I could do that," I snorted. What worried me even more was how concerned I was with what Shuuhei thought about me. Sure, he was my fukutaichou, but only I had only known him for two days.

In those two days, he had managed to distract me almost completely from my focus on revenge.

Revenge. The word stirred a mass of dark memories, but for some reason, all my mind focused on was my old self's feelings for Ryota. A glint in the corner of the room caught my eye and hesitantly, I crawled over to grab his ring, strung on a delicate chain. Holding it so the moonlight danced off the silver band, I sighed, feeling old tears begin to well behind my eyes. "Why did I fall in love with you?" I asked, with my voice shaking.

Slowly, I slipped the necklace back around my neck, and felt something akin to relief as the tears that threatened to betray me disappeared.

"I swore to him that I would destroy him," I said aloud, the words strengthening my wavering resolve. But, how exactly would I do that? For the past four years, I had climbed through the academy with the vague concept of revenge, but with no definite plan.

If the dumbass hadn't figured out that I was the Ren that nearly punched a hole in his head four years ago by now, I doubted any compromising memories would resurface soon. Seriously, how could he just forget me like that, though? We had grown up together, bonded since childhood. As I thought about it though, this did give me an advantage. I was the "guy-Ren" that Ryota had only just met. I could still use my knowledge of Ryota, of his likes and dislikes, his weaknesses, his pet peeves. I tingled excitedly as I felt a plan come together.

The ultimate way to destroy Ryota was to take away his pride, supported by his position as Third Seat. In order to carry out my revenge, I would have to best Ryota and claim the title for myself. I grinned crookedly as I pictured the scene, me towering over a whimpering, sobbing, beaten Ryota, to where I would reveal myself as the childhood friend that he had jilted and humiliated. It would torment him until the day he died.

I flopped down on my bed, relieved and excited to have finally found a method to secure my revenge. It was almost unbelievable that a little while ago I wanted to set fire to something, which transitioned to a state of electric nervousness, and then almost drowned in despair and self-pity, but now I was giggling like a teenage girl who had gotten her first kiss. My mood swings impressed even me.

Staring at the ceiling, I felt the tiredness that I continued to push away through the day begin to sweep through my defenses. I allowed reality to finally invade my senses, which was not wise to do all at once. I gasped and doubled over as the wounds that Muguruma-taichou took effect. Pain ripped through my body, especially at my chest, where my taichou's finishing blow had hit. I carefully began to take off my shihakusho, wincing as the wounds on my hands began to throb. I was grateful for the soothing moonlight that streamed in through a small window. It illuminated the countless bruises and scrapes that I had received today, but I was satisfied to find no broken bones. I had accrued a relatively small collection of scars over the years, despite all my rough training and brushes with death. There was a small burn from my first attempt at using kido, as well as a scar from falling out of tree during my childhood. I traced a thin white line that ran up the underside of my left arm, a result of the first time using my zanpakuto.

"Maybe Shuuhei's right and I am a klutz," I whispered to myself, smiling as an image of Shuuhei's goofy grin flashed through my head. Slowly, the initial pain from my injuries faded and the underlying sleepiness overwhelmed my exhausted brain. Too lazy to change into a sleeping yukata, I crawled under the covers of the bed, pulling back on my shihakusho. I drifted into a content slumber, my first satisfying night of sleep in the Ninth Division.

**88888888**

"Stand back…" said a distant voice, floating in and out of my dream. What a weird dream, I thought hazily, but the voice called again, louder this time. "I'm breaking down the door," it said, insistently threatening to rouse me from sweet sleep.

Sounds that sounded suspiciously like thumping on my door finally succeeded in waking me. "Gosh, you Ninth Division people are so noisy in the morning," I murmured blearily, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

Instead, what truly erased the drowsiness was an explosion, or at least what seemed to be an explosion. I leapt out of my bed, battle senses activated, and grabbed the closest weapon, which happened to be a lamp. Clutching it like a sword, I rolled behind an upturned table, using it as a barrier.

"Who's the idiot that decided to break into my room?" I snarled, my fingers curling around a nearby cutting board. I peeked over the edge of the table and quickly flung it at the intruder, who yelped and sidestepped to avoid the projectile.

"Are you crazy? That could have actually hit me!" said a familiar, masculine voice.

"No way," I breathed, poking my head above the table to squint through the haze. "Shuuhei?"

Sure enough, the smoke settled to reveal the tall figure of my fukutaichou, with a surprised expression on his face. "Oh, sorry," I apologized, lowering the vase that I had prepared to throw. "But you could have just knocked like a normal person."

"I never thought of that," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I knocked on your door five times and screamed at you to wake up six times before I tried opening the door."

He glanced over at my wardrobe, which was now embedded in the opposite wall. "I guess you decided to barricade your door with that," he said, pointing at the furniture, its contents scattered around the room. "I seriously thought something had happened to you, bakayaro!"

"Hey, you're the one that decided to freaking blow up my room!" I yelled, observing that the wardrobe was the least of the damage. The floorboards were demolished, furniture blasted aside, not to mention a blaring hole in the wall. Coming out from behind the table barrier, I pointed the lamp-sword at him accusingly and glowered.

"And you were pissed at me for destroying the onsen with a kido spell! You actually have the nerve to mock me, but it seems like you Ninth Division members do this all the time. And have you ever heard of personal space? Yesterday you barged right into my room, too!" I ranted, but stopped abruptly when I caught a glimpse of Shuuhei's face. He was blushing so intensely that the redness seemed to radiate its own light, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. In the back of my mind, a small voice said that the expression was adorable.

"Um, Ren," he began, his voice cracking. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked incredulously, pointing at something in the room.

"What?" I snapped and span around on my heel to identify the object of Shuuhei's wonder. To my horror, it turned out to be a lacy white garment…a bra to be specific. The modest feminine garment was one of a few womanly things scattered around the room, probably knocked out of the wardrobe by Shuuhei's kido explosion. I cursed inwardly at myself for carrying those betraying clothes. To be honest, I barely wore them, and usually opted for the binding sarashi, but I the little bit of femininity that remained prevented me from discarding the garments.

Obviously Shuuhei thought very differently about where the female underclothes came from. He looked across the room, his eyes widening at every compromising item. Then, he studied me, his gaze lingering on my crumpled shihakusho.

"I was wondering why your reiatsu flared suddenly yesterday night," he said slowly.

This time, I felt a burning blush break out across my face. Alternately, the blush began to seep away from Shuuhei's cheeks. "No, you don't mean…you think I…" I trailed off when Shuuhei refused to make eye contact. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I shrieked, waving my arms wildly. "It really isn't what you think! I can explain! The bra was, um, I, uh—" I gushed, panicking to try to come up with an excuse.

Shuuhei held his hand up, halting my flustered babbling. "You know, save your random excuse. You owe me too many anyways," he sighed, rubbing his eye wearily.

I quieted immediately, and instead chose to conduct a staring contest with the floor. "But I have to admit, I didn't know you were _that_ experienced," he said offhandedly, but there was a strained note in his voice.

I looked up suddenly and found a tense smile on Shuuhei's face, but I fixated on his eyes. While his eyes were usually a calm, clear gray, they were now stormy, inky depths. The icy disappointment that I found swirling in those dark orbs made my chest tighten painfully and immediately halted my breathing. I had felt this before, when Ryota exposed the true coldness of his gaze. But this time, there was no anger, instead a sinking, lost feeling.

"Well, see you later," he said brusquely and flash-stepped away.

I ran out of the room, intending to chase after him, to apologize, but I realized that there was nothing I could say to explain away the situation. An object at the side of my feet caught my attention. I looked down to find a steaming plate of omurice, like the one that Shuuhei had cooked for me only the day before. I bent down and picked up the dish, and read a carefully constructed ketchup message, which read "_Good Morning, Chihuahua :D_". Immediately, another strange feeling came over me and Shuuhei's smiling face appeared in my head, followed by his disappointed expression.

Why was he so upset?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: More cross-dressing troubles for Ren! I would never go into a hot springs anyway, so I can't even begin to imagine Ren's panic in entering an onsen with Shuuhei, though other girls would probably jump at the opportunity. Finally, I got Ren to meet Ryota, who happens to be three seats above her. If Shuuhei wasn't there, Ren would have probably strangled Ryota. Actually, if I was her, I would have probably attacked Ryota anyway. But yes, when he was restraining Ren, he was technically hugging her. Development? You decide, especially after Shuuhei's reaction to the bras/underwear lying around Ren's room. I randomly imagined this scene in class and almost laughed out loud, but people would think I'm crazy. Well, if they don't already. I want to give credit to my little sister, who, despite her customary annoyingness, helped me think up the beginning scene.**

**And to annoy everyone with stories of my life…**

**I went to State Solo and Ensemble a couple of days ago (and missed school!). After a week of intense practice though, I got an excellent on my solo, which is one grade below a superior, the highest rating you can get (besides a superior with distinction). I'm content with that, but I can't help but feeling a tad bit disappointed. Oh well, that just means that I need to practice harder. Next year, I'm determined to get a superior!**

**My band just finished hosting a Japanese band, a real Japanese band with Japanese high school students from Japan! I didn't get to house any Japanese students, though. I went to two of their concerts and almost fell out my seat from the pure awesomeness. Their high school band makes ours seem like elementary school recorder players!**

**My friend is newly interested in Big Bang, the South Korean group. But for me, I've been relatively obsessed with them for a while now. So now, I have someone else to rant about their awesomeness with! But then there's my other friend…she listened to half of Haru Haru and said it was boring! I almost punched her! This is the friend that bashed CN BLUE, my favorite pop/rock Korean band, and said they looked gay. Sometimes I still wonder why I'm friends with her.**

**Looking at this author's note, I realize that I've just been prattling on. Oops. I'm sorry for wasting anyone's time. **

**I'll finish this unnecessarily long author's note by saying thank you again to the reviewers and to others, constructive criticism is appreciated. **

**-CodenameOokami**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Before anything, else I want to say…**

**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry******************************

**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry******************************

******************************I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**I'msorry**!********************************************************

**I could continue, but I think you get it. I know I haven't updated in several months. I blame my inherent laziness, distracting new animes (i.e. Legend of Korra! Woot!), homework, and studying for those darn AP exams. I finally finished taking my last AP exam a couple of days ago, so I have ridiculous amounts of free time. So, the first thing I did was work on this story. By the way, I did **_**not**_** abandon Enveloped in Sakura. I've just been having severe writer's block with that story, cause this romance drama stuff is not my strong point (as you will see below). **

**But I want to say thank you to those who supported me through my period of AP-zombie-ness. You're the ones that got me off my lazy butt to write this chapter. **

**So, I apologize for not updating in so long and for any unsatisfactory writing. **

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

"Ren-Ren!" My head snapped up immediately when a familiar high-pitched squeal penetrated my murky storm of thoughts. "Ren-Ren! Ren-Ren!"

Before I could pinpoint the source of the voice, my breath was knocked out of me by an incoming missile that could only be identified as my best friend, Ruri Aida. "Ru-ri?" I croaked in disbelief at the blonde-haired girl that was perched on my chest.

"I missed you soooo much, Ren-Ren! Why didn't you join Division 10 with me?" she wailed, gripping my shihakusho tightly and yanking me back and forth until I began to see double. "But at least you're in the division right next to mine. We have to go out for drinks soon," she chirped in a bubbly manner. Ruri had an uncanny ability to switch from one extreme mood to another, to the point where I wondered if she was truly emotionally unstable.

"Um, Ruri, it's great to see you and all, but would you mind getting off? I can't breathe!" Realizing the awkward position we were currently in Ruri immediately jumped off, giggling uncontrollably. Grimacing in pain, I picked myself off the floor and glared at her in irritation. As usual, it didn't have any effect on her. The small woman grinned and bobbed her head, causing her blonde curls to bounce in a manner so unbelievably happy that I couldn't help but feel my hurricane of torturous emotions fade into the background of my mind.

Ruri was one of those friends that made you constantly question why you were friends in the first place. She was infectiously cheerful and impossibly energetic, no matter what time of day. Although she gave off the impression of being a ditz or space cadet, she was much smarter than most people thought. In fact, she graduated from the Academy in the top five of the Special Accelerated Program with me.

One of Ruri's special abilities was her incredibly astute intuition. Putting her hands on her hips, she furrowed her brows. "What's wrong with you Ren-Ren?" When I didn't answer, she pouted, "You never want to tell me your problems. I'm supposed to be your best friend!"

"Alright, alright. Let's go somewhere a little more private. I think people are beginning to stare." It was true, other shinigami in the office were starting to look at us.

Ruri nodded and followed me out of the office. "You have boy problems, don't you? Is there a guy you like?" she asked straightaway and I clamped a hand over her mouth. The noise of shuffling papers had strangely vanished from the office.

"Sshhh! Remember, I'm a _guy_." I hissed, trying to remind her that I was cross-dressing. Her eyes widened and she nodded. When I released her, she said a little louder, "Yeah, that's right, Ren-kun. You're definitely a man, a manly man that definitely likes women. So yeah, did a, uh, woman just dump you or something?" We waited until the noise had picked up in the office again and began to walk away.

"The captain put me on probation. In other words, desk duty," I said, kicking an invisible rock as we walked along an empty hallway.

She looked at me incredulously. "It's only your third day on the job! What happened? Did you beat up someone important _again_?"

I shook my head, my lip curling in frustration. "Okay, so maybe I did blow up an onsen a little, but Shuuhei had to go and explode my quarters with kido. And_ I_ get blamed for it! Why would I destroy my own room?"

I vented to Ruri, explaining the whole fiasco with Shuuhei in the morning, where he had blasted down my bedroom door and wardrobe, which resulted in the scattering of my female undergarments and how he came up with the crazy idea that I had collected them through certain _encounters_ with women. I ranted about all of my two days' worth of experiences with Division 9. Even through all of my complaints, there was still one question in the back of my mind. Without thought, I blurted it out to Ruri.

"But Shuuhei was just so weird about it! He said, 'I didn't know you were that experienced' and just ran away! What's wrong with him? Just when I thought we could be friends."

Instead of answering immediately, Ruri glanced at me sideways. She had been oddly calm throughout my whole rant and her silence now made me slightly nervous.

"What do you think about Ryota right now?" she asked offhandedly.

"I still want to strangle him, if that's what you mean. What does that have to do with anything?"

She studied me once more with that strange look that seemed to peer into my soul. Then, she suddenly broke out into a fit of laughter, startling me.

"You guys are downright hilarious! It's so obvious but you're both just so oblivious to it! I bet the poor guy doesn't even know why he was jealous!" she gasped through her hysterical cackling.

This time, it was my turn to stare at her weirdly. "You've finally lost it, haven't you?"

Ruri shook her head, wiping tears away. "I'll let you figure this one out, Ren-Ren," she said gleefully.

When I pressed her for details, she simply launched into a tirade about the disappointing absence of daikon from the mess hall food. Sighing, I attributed her strange comments to her overall weirdness. Eventually, our conversation found its way back to my revenge plot.

"I'm going to train until I become strong enough to beat down Ryota to fourth and claim the Third Seat!" I declared.

"I hate to break it to you, but that's gonna take a lot of training. I mean, you don't even have shikai yet," she muttered.

"Um, about that…" I began, but was cut off by Ruri's shrieking.

"You got shikai already? And you didn't tell me?" she sobbed, clinging to my shihakusho. "Am I that worthless to you? Have you ditched me now?"

I rolled my eyes at Ruri's latest mood swing, carefully removing her hands from my robes. She jumped up and down, stomping her feet in a tantrum. My hands grasped her arms in an attempt to keep her from pummeling my chest. "Honestly, Ruri, I didn't tell you because I knew you would react like that. Knowing you, you'd immediately ask me to show you. And no, I can't."

Ruri opened her mouth to complain, but her attention suddenly focused on something behind me. I released her slack arms and span around to face the listener. "Honestly, you people should stop eavesdropping on our conversation!" I growled in annoyance, but immediately regretted it when I met the surprised gaze of none other than my fukutaichou.

"Hey," I said awkwardly. "I don't know how many times I have to say this, but this isn't what it looks like." To an outsider, it might have seemed like I was having an argument or a breakup with a girlfriend, especially after the disaster this morning. _Why did Shuuhei have to have such terrible timing?_

Before I could explain anything else though, Ruri bounced straight over to him with her radiant smile. "You're Ren-Ren's fukutaichou—Hisagi-san, right?" Naturally, I zoomed right over before to stop her from saying anything embarrassing, but to no avail.

He quickly glanced at me before answering her. "Um, yeah. Shuuhei Hisagi. Pleased to me—"

"I'm Ruri Aida, the eighth seat of Division 10! I'm Ren-Ren's best friend. We grew up together in the Rukongai," she chirped. I signaled to her to stop talking, but she merely stuck her tongue out at me and continued to chatter at rapid-fire speed.

"I'm such a klutz! I must have misplaced my clothes with Ren-Ren's luggage! I never should have gotten matching suitcases! They were so cheap, though! But it wasn't as bad as the time when got his stuff taken on the first day in the Academy and was tricked into dressing up as a maid! Ren-Ren was so adorable! You should have seen him—he looked _just_ like a girl! And then there was the time before exams when-" she chirped, but I clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Isn't that enough already, Ruri?" I whispered through clenched teeth, a blush spreading guiltily on my cheeks. Although the part about the matching suitcases was a lie, my maid dress-up was unfortunately true. It was an experience that I had tried to erase from my memory several times, but failed miserably. I refused to meet Shuuhei's eyes, terrified of finding some kind of condemnation in them. In my embarrassment, my concentration slipped and Ruri chomped down on my hand.

"Ow! What the heck?" I cried, holding my injured hand.

Ruri shot me a murderous look, like 'don't say anything else or I'll disembowel you', which she was surprisingly good at, despite her sunshiny appearance. She then continued to talk with Shuuhei, as if nothing had occurred. "Actually, when we were little, he used to crawl into my bed because he was scared of 'monsters', which actually turned out to be his own shadows. He used to be such a crybaby!"

I massaged my temples in attempt to counteract the intense desire to attack my best friend. She was having too much fun with this. Slowly, I snuck a look at Shuuhei, and was stunned to find amusement swirling in his eyes. He was obviously trying not to laugh, which resulted in an endearing half-smile.

"But now Ren-Ren has no room! And he won't admit it, but he's terrified to share a room with strangers or girls! Except me, of course!" she chirped. I froze in shock, realizing her intentions.

"Don't you think it's time for you to go back to your division?" I said, sending her a threatening look. This time, she didn't ignore it. "Ren-Ren's being a spoilsport!" she whined, sticking her tongue out at me. Sighing, she waved to Shuuhei. "We all have to go out for drinks sometime!" she sang, grinning mischievously. Whistling an irritating little tune, she dashed off, leaving me alone with Shuuhei.

"You have…_interesting_ friends," he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence for me. "She's certainly energetic."

"You know, she's nearly a decade older than me," I commented, pleased to find another surprised expression. I coughed, and reverted to my usual prickly self. "But if you tell _anyone_ about what she said," I warned.

"Don't worry, I won't let the division know that Ren-Ren was a crybaby," he pledged, a smirk spreading on his face.

"I hate that nickname!" I spat, swatting at him halfheartedly.

"Yeah, I think Chihuahua suits you more," he agreed, dodging my slap. "But you know, your friend was right. I'm sorry for what happened to your room. I'm surprised the taichou didn't have an aneurysm."

"Aneurysm? I'm surprised that he didn't blow me up! I'm on probation now, thanks to _you_," I snapped, but oddly enough, I didn't feel very angry with him. In fact, I felt relieved that he was talking to me again. I had to thank Ruri for explaining away the underwear debacle.

"Sorry about that. Um, how about you stay at my place?" he suggested, his face slowly turning pink. When I gawked at him in bewilderment, he quickly added, "At least until the repairs on your quarters are finished. I owe you that at least."

Some part of me screamed that this was a bad idea, a very, _very_ bad idea, and that he would find out that I was a girl in no time. But another part of me said that I didn't have someplace to sleep, and I certainly didn't know anyone else well enough in the division to room with them. It wasn't like I could ask to room with a girl, either. Plus, there was the fact that I was completely broke. Still, this was a very risky situation.

"I'll cook dinner," he tried. That won me over.

"Fine," I grumbled. "But I want chicken yakisoba!"

**88888888**

"Whoa," I breathed, my jaw hanging open at the sight of the pristine apartment. "It's way bigger than my room!" Scanning the remarkably tidy flat, I caught sight of a comfortable-looking sofa and plopped myself down on it, dropping my luggage in an messy pile next to me.

"I _am_ the fukutaichou," he clarified, reclining into an armchair opposite me.

"You better watch out, I might just steal that title from you just for this place," I joked, rolling around in the couch like a hyperactive child.

"You mean, after you take the third seat from Kaneko?"

I shot up, turning my head towards him. Narrowing my eyes, I asked warily, "How much of our conversation did you hear?"

Not meeting my scrutinizing gaze, he crossed his arms behind his head. "I wasn't listening in. You guys were screaming about revenge when I was passing by," he confessed. "But, what's your history with him?"

I froze immediately, unable to say anything. "I, um, well he," I stammered.

"You don't have to tell me the details if you don't want to," he assured. "Besides, I already have a good idea on what your feud's about. A girl, right?"

"What makes you think that?" I asked nervously. Did he know about my disguise?

"Because guys don't fight over anything that seriously unless it's about their pride or a woman," he explained, like it was obvious. Honestly, this guy just loved jumping to conclusions.

"…Sure, it's about a girl," I said, which wasn't exactly a lie. "Apparently, he doesn't recognize me, so can you kind of not talk about this with him? Or anyone, for that matter. It could kind of complicate things."

"I'll consider it," he said simply. "I won't stop you from trying to get revenge, but it may not be as satisfying as you think it will be. Have you thought about what you'll do after?"

"I'm going to take a shower," I answered coldly, and promptly stomped off in the direction of one of the doors.

"The bathroom is on the other side," I heard him call.

Without pause, I stormed back across the living room, pointedly avoiding eye contact, and marched into the bathroom. I slammed the door ferociously, knowing Shuuhei was laughing from the other room. Gripping the edge of the sink tightly, I took several deep breaths to try and calm down, which only succeeded in making me light-headed.

He was seriously distracting me. I had been dead set on revenge for four long years, but somehow, it only took a few words from a man that I had only met a couple days before to shake my resolve. I banged my fist on the counter in frustration, causing a cascade of various toiletries. With my shinigami reflexes I caught most of them, but some bottles of colognes and aftershaves and a toothbrush managed to elude my grasp. The bottles smashed into the floor, sending shards of glass across the room. I slammed the stuff I caught on the counter and instinctively covered my nose, but nevertheless, the strong smell hit me like a strike to the head from a wooden sword.

"Can't…breathe!" I wheezed and wrenched the door open. My eyes watering, I leaned on the wall of the hallway, hacking and coughing my lungs out. In my blurred vision, I spotted Shuuhei approaching the disaster area.

"What's going—kami, what's that smell?" Wrinkling his nose, he peered into the bathroom. "Seriously…barely even half an hour," I heard him mutter. Sighing, he turned around and put his hand on my shoulder. I flinched at the contact, but he didn't remove his hand.

"Promise me that you'll do your best to _not_ destroy my place while you're here," he said seriously, but then cracked a grin, "or I'll call you Chihuahua in front of the whole division." Before I could muster a sharp retort, he ruffled my hair and sauntered off, laughing quietly to himself.

I huffed angrily, trying to suppress the mortifying blush that threatened to break out. For some reason, my pulse had intensified instantly and my heart was beating wildly. Shrugging it off as some kind of reaction to the fumes, I steadied myself and stepped back into the bathroom. The stench was still intense, but slightly more tolerable. Crouching down to clean up the shattered fragrance bottles, I started to place the glass shards in a small pile.

Before I could actually make any progress however, I felt a hand gently grab my arm. "Don't pick them up with your bare hands!" Shuuhei chided, brandishing a brush and dustpan in his other hand.

"It's fine," I muttered, deliberately not making eye contact. I squirmed and loosened my arm hastily. Quickly, I snatched the broom and swept up the glass shards, still feeling my skin burn where he had touched it. "I think I might be allergic to perfumes," I said, rather nervously. Kneeling down next to me, we worked in tandem to clean up the mess.

"They weren't perfumes," he argued, "perfumes are for women."

I laughed tensely at the mention of 'women'. "But, you don't seem to wear cologne a lot," I blurted, shouting out the first thought that sprang into my head. "Not that you need to wear cologne. You don't stink or anything. You smell like you shower often," I babbled. Shuuhei rasied an eyebrow questioningly, causing me to plummet further off the conversation cliff.

"But don't get the wrong idea! It's not like I smell you or—or think about you showering or anything!" I stammered, utterly failing to explain myself.

Instead of making fun of me, he simply smiled with that annoyingly charming expression. "You're just so weird," he chuckled amusedly. He made to ruffle my hair again, but I narrowly dodged it.

"You know, I originally wanted to take a shower," I said abruptly, pressing the broom and dustpan full of glass shards back into his hands and shooed him out of the room. I slammed the door shut and leaned against it for support, waiting until I heard his footsteps fade away to back away from the door.

What I needed right now was a cold shower to wash away this awkward, unnerving feeling. Slowly, I undressed, carefully peeling off my shihakusho after checking all corners of the room for openings. I dumped the clothes into a pile, carefully covering my underclothes with the shihakusho.

I hopped into the shower and twisted open the faucet, feeling my head clear as the icy water pelted my tingling skin. Feeling more composed, I turned the warm water on, breathing in the therapeutic steam.

I laughed at the irony of the situation. Only a couple of days ago, I was ready to camp out in a refrigerated bathroom to avoid going to the hot springs with Shuuhei, but here I was, taking a shower in his place. On top of that, I was going to be rooming here, too. I only hoped it wouldn't end as disastrously as the onsen trip, though. The frustrating thing was, I was actually quite good with kido. In fact, I was at the top of my kido class in the Academy, but somehow, I had only succeeded in making myself look like an idiot using it in front of Shuuhei.

I shampooed and washed, trying not to think about how I was using Shuuhei's soap, and that I would _smell_ like him.

I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I barely even heard the knock at the door. "I brought some spare towels and your bag," Shuuhei boomed and I almost slipped and fell.

"Leave them outside the door!" I nearly shrieked, dropping the soap bar in my panic. I cursed silently, remembering that through all my precautions, I had forgotten to lock the door. I debated running out of the shower to turn the lock, but thankfully Shuuhei didn't come in. I heard him set my bags down outside the bathroom and I breathed I sigh of relief.

"Okay. I just started the yakisoba. Are you allergic to anything?" he asked nonchalantly.

I followed his example and tried to act like it was perfectly normal. "No!" I shouted. I cleared my throat. "I mean, no, I'm not allergic to anything, but my system can't digest carrots," I said in a marginally less strangled voice.

"You just could have said you didn't like them," Shuuhei pointed out.

"Just go make the food!" I snapped, even though I did a mental facepalm. I always said the weirdest things when I was talking to him.

"Hai, hai," he mused and I heard him walk away from the door.

Hurriedly, I finished showering and grabbed my old shihakusho to cover myself. Tentatively, I opened the door and snatched my stuff. This time when I closed the door, I was sure to lock it. I quickly dried off and using my flash-changing method, I changed into my casual wear—a lightly patterned jinbei* set. I carefully bound my chest with the sarashi wrap and haphazardly dried my hair. I consented to brushing it through a few times with my fingers and finding my appearance acceptable, I bundled up my old clothes and placed them in an empty compartment in my bag. I would do the laundry at a later time, when Shuuhei wasn't around.

Feeling fresh and energized, I bounced down the hallway, slowing down to inhale delicious smells coming from the kitchen. Happily, I padded lightly to the kitchen to find Shuuhei putting the finishing touches on the dinner. Even though he was wearing a simple white apron, he handled the wok like a professional chef—it was captivating to watch. My stomach grumbled obnoxiously and alerted him to my presence.

He turned around smiling, but seeing me, it immediately melted off of his face. Flustered, I glanced around myself. "Did I forget something?" I asked anxiously.

"It's still February and you're wearing a jinbei," he said rhetorically.

"This is my only pair of pajamas that I brought with me," I mumbled, "besides, it's warm in your place."

He scowled and glanced at me critically. "I'll ask Rangiku to go with you and buy some clothes," he decided. "She's a bit of an _enthusiastic_ shopper, so you'll have to build up your endurance."

"She?" I asked, but Shuuhei didn't seem to hear me.

"In the meantime, wear this," he said, and pulled a dark, hanten*-like clothing that he had been over his head. Underneath, he was wearing a tight-fitting, long-sleeved shirt. I snickered softly. _Ha, he's weak to the cold._ He tossed the jacket-thing to me and I caught it effortlessly.

"What is this?" I questioned, examining the foreign clothes.

"It's called a hoodie, from the World of the Living," he explained patiently as I struggled to put it on.

"Humans are stupid!" I shouted in frustration, now hopelessly entangled in the "hoodie" thing.

"Seriously, you're having that much trouble with mortal clothes? How are you supposed to go on a mission to the World of the Living?" Shuuhei chided, guiding my flailing body parts through the proper openings in the hoodie.

"I'd love to go to the World of the Living," I said wistfully, but then cleared my throat. "But only if they have better clothes than this thing," I grumbled, tugging at the too-big jacket.

Shuuhei adjusted the jacket, pulling back the hood and rolling up the sleeves like a patient father. I yanked back hastily, suddenly realizing our close proximity.

"I'll go set the table," I muttered and stepped past Shuuhei with my eyes focused on the floor. I didn't want him to see the flushed pink color that stained my face.

Soon enough, we were sitting at a small dining table. Instead of sitting across from me like I would prefer, he deliberately pulled up a chair next to me. Normally, I would have told him off, but I was transfixed by the steaming plate of golden, stir-fried noodles that he set in front of me.

"You're drooling," he pointed out.

"Shut up," I snapped and grabbed the chopsticks, poised to demolish the plate. Then, I remembered my manners and quickly belted "Itadakimasu!" before digging in.

"This. Is. Absolutely. Amazing," I said between bites. "This has to be the best yakisoba I have ever eaten."

Shuuhei smiled modestly and slowly began to eat his plate of noodles. "Sorry, I ran out of the good aonori*."

"Are you kidding me? How do you cook this incredibly? Every time I try to cook something, it always ends up overcooked, undercooked, or both. And trust me, it is not appetizing to eat chicken that's black on one side and raw on the other."

"You know, I kind of figured that was what would happen. You must have survived on plain rice and bonito flakes*," Shuuhei said, shaking his head.

I pouted slightly. "It's not fair! You're so much better at feminine stuff than I am!"

Shuuhei frowned faintly. "Are you saying I'm girly? As I recall, you were the one that dressed up as a maid."

I glowered wrathfully at him. "If you tell anyone else about that, you'll end up like those idiots that tricked me into the stupid costume. They weren't able to move for six months—and that's with healing."

He raised an eyebrow in his unique expression that held amusement, slight cockiness, and endearing warmth that he constantly seemed to give off. "You forget that I'm the fukutaichou. I could pin you down faster than you could blink. And that's without using shunpo."

I placed my chopsticks down gingerly, having thoroughly cleaned the plate. "Is that a challenge, _fukutaichou_? And _you_ forget that I never back down from a fight, even if my opponent happens to be a few centimeters taller than I am." _Or a man_, I thought.

He seemed not to sense my seriousness, as he laughed out loud at my comment. "We'll go to the Division 9 practice field tomorrow then, _Chihuahua._"

I grinned excitedly. Finally, a chance to get some high-quality training in! I hadn't done as well as I had liked against the taichou, so what better practice than being taught by the fukutaichou?

"We'll focus on your shikai training, of course."

I froze immediately, feeling a cold, constricting feeling around my chest. I definitely couldn't show my shikai in public.

Shuuhei winked sagely. "I didn't forget your little friend screaming about how you had already achieved shikai."

Oh how I wished that he would spontaneously develop amnesia at that point! Releasing my zanpakutou was at the top of my "Do Not Do List"…because it would undoubtedly reveal to the division—and Ryota—that I was a girl.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope this chapter wasn't too bad. I really tried to proofread carefully this time. **

**So, a lot of things happen in this chapter. I introduced Ruri, Ren's hyperactive bestie. Crazy best friend side characters are the most fun to write about. And now you know that yes, the title "Oblivion, Complete Oblivion" does slightly pertain to the story; but more so because Division 9's flower is the white poppy, which symbolizes oblivion, so I made up what I thought would be a cool title. But anyways, on to the major topic of discussion, more Ren cross-dressing troubles! Bwahahaha! And now she has to room with Shuuhei. I'm pretty sure there's no one that would object to that, though. If you do, why exactly are you reading a Hisagi/OC fanfiction? Ahem, I'll stop the rhetorical questions and get back on topic. So the last "cliffhanger" is Ren's shikai. Why did I make it a cliffhanger? Was it to pique interest, develop the story, or fuel my laziness? Mostly a combination of all three. I won't reveal much about Ren's shikai, except that (obviously) it would change her appearance. **

**I tried to spice up the interactions between the characters, but I only think I succeeded in making Ren seem bipolar. Oh well. One of my few complaints about Tite Kubo, besides the whole Orihime issue, is that he doesn't show my favorite fukutaichou enough. So, I kind of painted Shuuhei as he would seem to be: mature, helpful, calm, but slightly perverted (nosebleed omake!). **

***jinbei: summer wear made of light materials (like cotton), usually short sleeves & pants**

***hanten: traditional winter-coat **

***bonito flakes: fish flake flavorings you can eat with rice**

***aonori: very popular seaweed flake things that you can put on almost everything (especially yakisoba) **

**By the way, I was thinking, if I get enough requests, I might do some snippets from Hisagi's POV, just for kicks. E****r, now that I look at the length of this ridiculously wordy author's note, I've decided to wrap this up quickly. ****Look forward to more frequent updates with the upcoming summer break!**

**I almost forgot-constructive criticism is always appreciated!**

**-CodenameOokami**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm sorry for being such an erratic procrastinator of an author. With this summer break, I'm so lazy sometimes. Plus, I get sidetracked by the anime that I can watch whenever I want. But finally, I strapped myself down to the computer chair and finished this chapter. **

**But, aside from excuses, I'd really like to thank my reviewers: MaxInu23, RedSnow4, Aleiafae, xfang-girlx, Red (redchicken888), atomicvegemite, Juliedoo, and RiddikulusWaterbender. You guys keep me writing. I can't thank you enough…**

**This chapter is dedicated to the amazingly awesome god of Hisagi fanfics and my personal role model, Rheehemoth, who took the time to listen to this crazy author. Thank you for your advice and encouragement. Everyone please support her by reading and reviewing her inspiring stories! **

**This chapter has a sizeable amount of Japanese terms, so you might have to risk a seizure and scroll up and down a few times for the translations/explanations at the bottom of the story. **

**And if anyone was wondering, I don't own Bleach. **

**Without any further ado, here is the long-overdue Chapter 5. I apologize in advance for any unsatisfactory writing.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 5<p>

"You have some food on your face," Shuuhei scolded, motioning at his left cheek. I haphazardly swiped at an area above my left cheek and continued to eat my yakisoba. _Only my third plate and I already feel full,_ I lamented, _this shikai business has screwed with my appetite._ A few moments ago, Shuuhei had scheduled a training session with me—focused especially on my zanpakuto and shikai.

If there was a contest of "Most Irritating Zanpakuto", my Shiranui* would definitely be a top competitor. She was always droning on and on about femininity…and my lack of it. I should fasten her with a delicate ribbon instead of a chain; I should wear a womanly, floral kimono; I should grow my hair out; and most importantly, stop this cross-dressing business. My rejection of all of her ridiculous suggestions culminated in my shikai, where she did her best to "improve my maidenly character", which was exactly why I couldn't use it in public, where everyone thought I was male. Luckily, she was currently in one of her stubborn states, refusing to speak to me after I stuck her in the mud during a fight and didn't polish her immediately afterwards. I can't say I really regretted it.

"No, you missed it," he sighed and I pawed at my face again. "No, on _your_ left, oh forget it." Leaning over, he went to dab my face with a napkin. A familiar self-conscious sensation came over me and I felt my pulse quicken as he came closer and closer. Instinctively, I grabbed the napkin and scrubbed my entire face, maybe a bit too forcefully, trying to get the smudge of food off. "You don't have to treat me like a child," I muttered, finding the confidence to glare at him.

Shuuhei simply rolled his eyes, getting up to go and wash the dishes. Before he made it to the sink, however, I had already jumped out of my seat and scampered in front of him. "As much as I hate, and I do mean _hate_, cleaning, I'm going to wash the dishes today—as thanks." Before he could protest, I grabbed the plates out of his hands and flipped on the water. In reality, it was more for me than anything. Water, especially running water, always had a calming effect on me.

As I began to scrub the plates, flinging soap suds everywhere, I heard Shuuhei rustle around in a pantry. "Found it!" he exclaimed and pulled out, to my horror, a bottle of sake. "I knew I had it in here somewhere." A moment later, he fished out the ochoko* and plunked them down on the table. "I haven't properly welcomed you to the Division. Normally, we would have a sake party, but the taichou is kind of busy right now," he said apologetically.

Laughing nervously, I pretended to be extremely interested in scrubbing a nonexistent food stain. "Heh, I don't think we should have alcohol now."

The truth was, _I _was the one that shouldn't be allowed to drink the sake. Despite my iron stomach and its digestive prowess, I just could not hold my liquor. Unfortunately, this did not mean projectile vomiting or passing out—I was never blessed with the ability to _completely_ forget any alcohol-induced transgressions. I did, however, have the ability of immediate drunkenness and _extreme_ behavior.

"C'mon, its only one bottle of sake. One bottle can't do that much," he coaxed, pouring out two glasses. What he didn't know was that I was already getting dizzy from the fumes of the sake alone. "Look, I know you want to be in top shape for our practice tomorrow, but it's only a little alcohol."

At his words, I paused in my stubborn rejection and a wild plan began to form. If I could just get drunk, just enough to warrant calling off tomorrow's shikai practice, then I wouldn't have to go to drastic measures in order to avoid releasing my zanpakuto.

I slammed the faucet shut and pretended with debate to myself. "Fine, one drink," I sighed. It would probably only take one drink to incapacitate me anyway. I sat down at the table with Shuuhei across from me. Lifting the ochoko to my lips, I stared at the fatal clear liquid in a moment of hesitation. _Well, there was no going back now._ Shutting my eyes, I downed the glass, grimacing as the bitter drink seared my throat as it went down. I stared at Shuuhei as he did the same, seemingly without any adverse effects, whereas I felt like my entire body was turning a bright red. My face, at least, felt hot enough to be glowing.

Shuuhei poured another glass for me and then him, but I already found it difficult to focus on them. As opposed to most people, my coordination actually sharpened with the more alcohol I drank. I snatched the glass and quickly swallowed it, the burning sensation becoming more bearable. Shuuhei calmly sipped his drink, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Are you okay there?" he asked in mild concern, though he poured another cup for me.

I fingered the rim of the ochoko lazily. "Of course I'm okay! I'm with you!" I sang and slurped the beverage. As the last drop of the drink disappeared down my throat, so did my last remnants of coherent thought and reasoning.

As I reached for my fourth glass of sake, I felt something blocking my hand. I gazed down in annoyance, and found Shuuhei's hand, oddly warm and calloused, gently stopping mine. "I think you've had enough," he said.

"No, you're enough! You're treating me like a…like a—what was the word? Oh yeah, like a child!" I drawled and pointed a lone finger at him directly between the eyes. "You look funny again!" I snapped, deftly poking Shuuhei in the forehead, and he recoiled in surprise. "Your eyes get all funny and cloudy and distant, and…" I paused and said in a softer voice, "it makes me feel sad." Sure enough, I burst into tears, the salty streams pouring out of my eyes and soiling Shuuhei's hoodie, which I was borrowing.

Shuuhei bristled, looking panicked. "Wh-what? Why are you crying?" He awkwardly patted my shoulder. "Listen, if I said something—"

He stopped immediately when my hand found its way to his hair. "You always ruffle my hair like this," I pouted, petting his head softly. "But your hair so soft and—and touchable! It's not rough or spiky at all!" I chirped, continuing to stroke his hair as my tears suddenly stopped.

A faint pinkness spreading across his cheeks, Shuuhei slowly withdrew from my touch. "Ren," he said gruffly, "I think it's time for you to go to bed. You are _definitely_ drunk." He attempted to help me up from the chair, but I objected to the immediate bedtime. Dodging with incredible accuracy, I leapt onto his back like an insane monkey.

"I don't wanna go to bed!" I whined and pulled at his hair.

"Ouch! What are you—?" he hissed and tried to shake me off. He swiped back at me several times, but I only ducked and clung on tighter. Finally he managed to grab one of my hands off of his head, though it ripped out several hairs in the process.

"You're such a meanie, Shuuhei-niichan!" I cried. Leaning down, I rested my head on his shoulder. "Shuu-chan~," I crooned, breathing into his ear. Shuuhei stiffened immediately, his grip on my loosening enough for my arm to escape. "_Don't you like me_?" I whispered, idly tracing patterns on his neck.

Even in my drunken stupor, I sensed that my question had some strange effect on him. "Don't get weird again, niichan!" I wailed, and vaulted off of his back. Landing directly in front of him, I smiled widely, swinging my arms. "Let's go play instead!"

Shuuhei still had a vacant on his face, although it had turned an impossible shade of red. He shook his head, like he had just broken out of a trance. I jumped up and down in triumphant excitement. "Yay, you're all better! Now hurry up! I want to go swimming!" I was close to dashing out the door when an iron grip clamped on the hood of my jacket, almost strangling me. While I was trying to catch my breath, I felt him hoist me up, carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of vegetables.

"Put me down, you idiot! Let me go! Bastard!" I screeched, beating on his back, but he didn't relinquish his grip.

"I'm locking you in the bedroom until you fall asleep," he coolly explained, as if having a normal conversation with a non-hysterical person. True enough, he began walking towards a room in the hallway—at least until I sank my teeth into the underside of the arm that held me captive.

"What is wrong with you?" Shuuhei demanded. Exasperatedly, he grabbed my struggling feet and swung me in front of him so I hung upside down. He hurried into the bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot. He pretty much threw me onto the bed, then quickly rushed outside and slammed the door shut. Meanwhile, I was still struggling and spewing out nasty curse words and insults.

"For kami's sake, just go to sleep!" he bellowed from the other side of the door, obviously holding the door closed. Nevertheless, I insisted on tugging on the door knob for the next fifteen minutes. After I got tired of banging on the door, I slumped to the floor in defeat.

"Fine, but only if you tuck me in," I whined, feeling increasingly drowsy.

I was about to start pounding on the door again, but surprisingly, it creaked open. Shuuhei walked in, his hands awkwardly clenched at his sides. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered. He reached down and I flinched, expecting him to carry me upside down again, but instead, he gingerly lifted me up like I was injured. The warmth of his hoodie and the safe feeling of his arms were much too relaxing and before I knew it, I was snuggled up into his chest, my eyelids becoming increasingly heavier.

"You're such a pain, Chihuahua," he said, but there was no anger in his voice.

At the mention of my nickname, my eyes opened fractionally. "You…sea…urchin…" I slurred in my semi-conscious state. I felt myself being lowered onto a soft surface and sighed in relief. However, when the cozy heat source began to disappear and a cold blanket was pulled up to my chin, I cried out, latching onto the warm object. I clung on tightly, satisfied when it stopped moving away.

"Even when you're asleep, you're still unreasonable," he whispered. The last thing I heard before my mind faded to black was "Oyasumi*…Ren".

I remember smiling.

**88888888**

In usual fashion, I woke abruptly. This time, I had an incredibly restful sleep, soothing and uninterrupted. Normally, I would bounce out of bed to begin my normal training routine, but this time, my bed was too comfy. I nestled closer to the extremely comfortable pillow that surrounded me, telling myself that I would go for my run later, and that I deserved an extra hour or so of sleep.

I would have drifted back into unconsciousness too…if I didn't discover that my pillow was _breathing_. Steadily, my eyes opened, to find a dark mass in front of me, rising and falling periodically. I then realized I was wrapped around something warm and humanly, like an arm. I breathed experimentally, and smelled something familiar—a woody, subtly spicy, masculine smell. The unique scent of…

"Aaaaaaaah!" I screeched, scrambling backwards, away from _him_. Which resulted in me colliding with the floor. Again.

I sprang to my feet, already in a battle stance. "Wha—wha—what are you doing here?" I asked in a shrill voice. He shifted around in the bed, obviously awakened by my panicked screaming.

Shuuhei, on the other hand, remained completely calm. Placing a palm over his eyes, he mumbled, "Can you not freak out? I'm trying to sleep."

I nervously scanned the room for my zanpakuto, and finally realized that I was at Shuuhei's house. Nevertheless, I did not lower my guard. "Why am I wearing your hoodie? Why do I smell like you? Why do I feel like someone is splitting open my skull? Why was I sleeping in your bed? And most importantly, _why were you in there with me_?" I interrogated at rapid fire speed.

"So much for sleeping," he sighed. Without answering me, he slowly climbed out of the bed. Stretched a few times, yawning widely. Normally, I admired his calm demeanor, but it just infuriated me now.

My mouth opened and closed a few times as I searched for something suitable to say, steam practically pouring out of my ears. Just before I said something however, Shuuhei turned to me. "You are definitely _never_ allowed to have sake again," he stressed.

"What do you—" I began, but then the memories of last night flooded my already weary brain. I recalled the most embarrassing parts, including pouncing on Shuuhei, pulling out his hair, being carried upside down, and screaming tasteful insults. "Shit…!" I hissed through my teeth.

"I thought you were moody when you were sober, but when you're drunk…" He let out a low whistle. "One minute you're crying hysterically and the next you're jumping around like a little kid. I felt like I was taking care of a bratty younger brother. You whined for me to tuck you in and you wouldn't let me leave either. And you only had three cups."

I lowered my fighting stance, but that didn't mean that I lowered my mental guard. "You didn't…try anything on me while I was asleep then?" I tested.

Shuuhei looked like he had been slapped, quite literally too, as his face reddened alarmingly. "I'm not gay!" he said, perhaps a bit too loudly.

"And I'm definitely not gay either. So…let's never talk about this _situation_ ever again," I concurred, trying to assuage our mutual embarrassment, as well as do my best not to further wound his damaged man-pride. He nodded in understanding.

"But, you don't remember anything else about last night, other than your tantrums?" he asked.

I cocked my head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Great, you have a selective memory. How convenient for _you_," he muttered, so that I barely heard him. "Well…I'm going to go and make breakfast and then we'll head to the training fields."

I quickly remembered my previous plan, the reason why I went to the trouble of drinking in the first place. "Um, actually, I have a horrible headache right now, so can we put off this practice," _for forever. _

"Don't worry, I have this tea that works wonders on hangovers," he assured.

"No, I don't think any medicine will work on this. It's better to just rest until it wears off," I argued and feigned excruciating pain. It wasn't too far from what I was feeling though.

"That's fine," he said and shrugged. "I understand if you're afraid of facing a stronger opponent."

I'd like to say that I didn't fall for Shuuhei's cheap taunt, that I turned and walked away, but it what I actually said was "Are you kidding me? I never back down from a fight! And I'm never afraid!"

Shuuhei cleared his throat. "Then, I'll go make breakfast. See you in five," he said breezily and strolled out of the bedroom.

It was only a few seconds later when I realized that I had dug my own grave. "How come my plans always backfire?" I complained, punching an imaginary figure. "I guess I'll just have to do this the hard way."

**88888888**

"So we'll start with a few warm-ups," Shuuhei said brightly, "Why not start with a few sword drills?"

I stared agitatedly at the dusty ground, fingering the hilt of my zanpakuto. "What about some hand-to-hand combat training instead?" I suggested anxiously, trying not to plead.

"Sure," he agreed and smiled supportively. I grimaced lamely in response.

My main goal was to keep this training session as far away from using my zanpakuto as possible, but Shuuhei seemed insistent on my shikai. As I set down my sword and stepped onto the middle of a training area, I regretted having wolfed down all that food a couple of minutes ago. Shuuhei had prepared an elaborate breakfast and several cups of his hangover-curing tea, saying that I had to stay energized for our practice. Although I drank it grudgingly, I had to admit that it worked wonders on my pounding headache.

"The last time we were here, I had to fight Muguruma-taichou," I commented. Now that we had set aside our swords, I was somewhat calmer. Plus, hakuda was one of my strongest skills, as I had trained on all the fighting abilities that kept me from unsealing my zanpakuto.

Shuuhei stood a few feet opposite me, stretching his shoulders in preparation. "So, let's see what you got. Try your best to knock me off my feet." He said it as if he really wasn't expecting much though, which pretty much succeeded in ticking me off.

With a low growl, I launched at him, immediately on the offensive. The first thing I did was send a nasty punch towards his chest, but he seemed to dodge it effortlessly. Unfazed, I hit towards his chest with several lighter blows, and made sure to keep them in a familiar rhythm. As I predicted, he dodged each of them. Then, I suddenly delivered a quick front kick to his stomach, intending to catch him off guard. When he moved his side to dodge it, I used the opportunity to slam my hand into the turning shoulder.

A split second later though, I was staring at my hand in the same position, lightly stopped by a hold to the wrist. "That was a good combination move. If I was slow to dodge your surprise kick, then my shoulder would've would have been busted," he said, undaunted.

I pulled my hand out of his grip and took several steps backwards. As he was underestimating me, I was also underestimating him to an extent. That combination would have been effective on a low-level shinigami, but I had to remember that this was a fukutaichou I was dealing with—and it was obvious that he had extensive training in hakuda too.

"Hah, you think that was a good combo?" I taunted. I charged him with a series of alternating punches and kicks. In the beginning, he simply moved out of the way as he usually did. Grinning, I abruptly sped up to the height of my speed without using shunpo. My arms and legs became blurs as they whaled on Shuuhei, who was finally taken aback by my sudden change. He was forced to block a few of them, but he still had yet to counterattack.

"That was pretty impressive," he remarked, jumping out of my range.

"Are you even taking this seriously?" I demanded.

For a moment, some sort of dark emotion flickered across his face, interrupting the encouraging teacher mask. "You should not seek out a fight…especially with me. True battles only end in tragedy."

"Don't pull that sensei crap on me!" I spat. "Stop treating me like a child!"

Without hesitation, I shunpoed to meet him and let my strikes express my exasperation. I began to fight more seriously too, using more dangerous blows. I began a potentially devastating roundhouse kick, switching it to a powerful twist kick that caught him in the side. It sent him skidding backwards and I took the opportunity to attack with nonstop successive kicks. Finally, I used a reverse roundhouse kick, slamming into his neck with my heel. He retreated backwards as I withdrew my leg.

"You sure are fond of kicks," he said dryly, though it was obvious he was in pain.

"Fight back!" I snapped. When he made no move, I stomped in frustration. Ultimately, I released my spiritual power, as I had done when I was fighting Muguruma-taichou. Feeling strength course through me, I channeled my energy into a flying kick, shifting to propel my leg downwards, an axe kick straight down into Shuuhei's head. It connected with concussive force, but he didn't lurch backwards. Instead, he actually moved _forward_.

Before I knew what was happening, he had disabled my legs that were still recovering from the vicious axe kick, and we were grappling. I was so shocked that he managed to push me onto the ground with ease. When I regained my senses, he already had me pinned down.

"I warned you to lie off the kicks, especially the flying ones that leave you so open," he said darkly, squinting through blood that was trickling from his wounded head. "Though I have to admit, they do hurt." I squirmed, trying to regain control of the position, but to no avail. "The fact is, I'm bigger, heavier, and stronger than you—at least in this situation. So you should try to take me by surprise, a kidō spell without incantation preferably."

"You…sneaky…bastard!" I fumed, still trying to escape.

"You complain when I don't fight back, but you complain when I do," he mumbled.

"Is this some kind of twisted teaching method?" I hissed, and began thrashing violently.

Shuuhei simply adjusted his pinning technique and kept me pressed to the ground. Panic began to well in my brain as I realized it was impossible to grapple against him; he had every advantage on his side. "If I was an enemy, it wouldn't take that much power to strangle you right now. Or maybe if we had zanpakuto…"

Maybe it was the way that his personality suddenly changed, from being calm and supporting to the dark, threatening figure looming above me with blood dripping down his face, but I felt a wave of true terror begin to consume me. I was immobilized by his eyes, cold and piercing, that appeared to glimmer with something akin to bloodlust. It seemed like he wouldn't hesitate to finish me if this was a real battle.

For the first time, I was afraid of him.

I had been so stupid—he had warned me not to provoke him, to not treat his as a serious fight. Petrified, I watched in horror as a large hand descended toward me and I imagined them closing around my throat. A part of me screamed to move, to do something, _anything_.

Before I could actually scream though, I felt a soft touch on my forehead, brushing aside some stray hairs. My eyes darted back to Shuuhei, stunned to find not bloodlust or anger in his eyes, but instead a strange tenderness in them. His lips were pulled back subconsciously in a small smile.

"It's not fair," he whispered, his hand still resting on my forehead.

"Huh?" I said stupidly, my already overwhelmed brain struggling to form comprehensible words.

Shuuhei only chuckled softly. "It's not fair that I can't bring myself to fight against you, even if it is a practice match."

For some reason, my heart reacted by hammering against my ribcage. "I think I kicked you a little too hard in the head!" I spluttered.

Before I could blush horribly however, Shuuhei picked himself up, offering me a hand. My heart still racing, I took his hand and pulled myself up. I sped forward, so he could only see my back as I was trying to calm my reddened face.

"Um, m-maybe we could practice kidō," I stammered.

Shuuhei took several steps backward. "Possibly…if we just do some basic drills," he said cautiously.

I stomped in indignation and my embarrassment vanished. "I already told you, I was at the top of my kidō class!"

"Uh-huh," he said sarcastically. "Let's just try some bakudō, for now."

Determined to prove him wrong, I reeled around, my hands already in position. "Bakudō #21: Sekienton!" A burst of red smoke engulfed the training field, obscuring normal vision.

I used the smokescreen as cover, using my keen sense of smell to locate Shuuhei. I skittered around, muffling my presence. I took aim at the dark figure in front of me. "Bakudō #62: Hyapporankan!" I shouted suddenly and threw the rod of blue energy that formed in my hand. It multiplied into countless identical rods, headed straight for the shadow, and I heard several satisfying thuds.

Panting, I leapt backwards, out of the red cloud. The haze cleared to reveal a stunned Shuuhei, pinned to the ground by the rods. Slowly, I walked up to him. "Now how's that for a 'basic bakudō drill'," I snorted, standing over him.

I released him from the kidō trap, this time, offering him a hand up. Looking up, he grinned. "And that was one of my favorite kidō spells, too." He dusted off his ripped shihakushō and clapped me on the shoulder enthusiastically. "You caught me totally off guard. I can't figure out which was more impressive: you sneaking up on me or you using kidō without blowing up the training field. Still, I don't want to know what would happen if you used hadō."

Before I could retort though, there was a loud clapping sound behind me. "Nice job, _Sixth Seat_!" I heard. My blood turned to fire as I recognized the voice. "Ryota," I growled and whirled around, clenching my fists. Then, I remembered myself, and tried to quell my desire to rush up and kick him in the face. It was an advantage in my plan if Ryota didn't recognize me.

Sure enough, a golden-haired man strolled toward us with maddening confidence, "Not many can surprise Hisagi-fukutaichou like that," he said, laughing.

"Yeah well, he's full of surprises," Hisagi said, chuckling, glancing at me warily. I laughed along tensely, sounding like I was strangling a cat in the process.

My attention, however, focused on what Ryota was casually holding in his hands. "Why do you have Shiranui?" I asked, struggling to stay civil.

"Oh, that's your zanpakuto's name. How interesting," he commented. I was unsure whether he was being sarcastic. Flashing another supposedly charming smile, he inspected my zanpakuto, removing the ocean-colored saya*. "It is a remarkably beautiful weapon, though."

Truthfully, Shiranui was an extraordinary sword. She was a moderately long daitō*, a bit too awkward for someone my size and build to handle, but I wielded her with great agility. The bluish-white tinted blade gleamed so brightly that it could be used as a mirror—and that was without careful polishing. The tsuba* was completely unorthodox, an oval shape encircled by two inward-facing, crescent shaped blades that extended off of opposite sides of the oval base, each attached by two small bars. The blade extensions shone as reflectively as the blade.

"Why do you keep the tsuka* wrapped up in that funny cloth?" Ryota asked, fingering the black fabric that was carefully wrapped around the handle.

My fingers itched to snatch back my blade and run him through with it. "For safety reasons," I grunted.

"What do you mean by 'safety reasons'?" Shuuhei asked with raised eyebrows.

"Maybe if Kaneko-san gives me back my zanpakuto, I can show you," I mumbled, only making eye contact with Shuuhei.

Ryota slowly passed me back my sword, and I breathed a sigh of relief when it was back in my hands. They both looked at me intently, making me feel slightly uneasy. "Please…don't act up, Shiranui," I prayed, and tugged at a loose strip of cloth.

Immediately, the covering fell away, exposing the rest of the sword. The tsuka was wrapped in a snowy ito* that matched the sageo* knots on the saya. Attached to the base of the sword was a short silver chain. It lengthened and moved of its own accord, coiling up to my forearm. As soon as it finished wrapping around my arm, the sword hummed and burst into flames. Two jets of fire spurted out of the blades on the tsuba.

Shuuhei and Ryota both recoiled in shock, but I remained calm. "These flames don't affect me," I explained as the ghostly white flames engulfed my arm, up to where the chain stopped. "But, they can and will burn anything not on my body, so I suggest you take a couple of steps back." They both obliged. "The fire isn't normal fire either—it can't be put out by water or smothered."

"Does maintaining the fire weaken you?" Shuuhei asked.

I shook my head. "This fire doesn't drain my spiritual power unless it starts to majorly burn large objects—like buildings. I can only release my shikai when my zanpakuto's like this, though," I emphasized, but then realized my mistake.

"You've already achieved shikai, Ren-kun?" Ryota asked incredulously. "Straight out of the Academy, too."

I gritted my teeth. "It's Moriyama-san to you," I grumbled. "And is it so much of a shock?"

"Depends on how powerful your shikai is. And by the looks of your zanpakuto now, it seems pretty strong," he said, nodding. "Say, why don't we have a little shikai sparring match right now?" he asked, moving close to me. Leaning down, he whispered in my ear, "_It'll be just like old times_." Immediately, a kido barrier appeared, separating us from Shuuhei.

I flinched and pulled away. Grinning wolfishly, he stared at me with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Wh-what do you mean?" I stammered in panic, not meeting his gaze. _He couldn't have guessed already?_

"I mean, I remember a little girl from my childhood and she had the strange ability to set things on fire, too. She was quite tomboyish, and we used to spar with old tree branches. That was, until I told her that I only liked feminine girls," he sneered, and I froze, my sword arm hanging limply at my side.

"Do you really think I wouldn't recognize you…Tsukikawa?" he scoffed. "Oh I almost forgot, you hate using your father's surname, don't you?"

"When did you find out?" I hissed, tightening my grip on my zanpakuto. The flames on my arm started to dance precariously, sparks beginning to fly off of the blade.

"Please, how do you think I got to be the Third Seat? The first time we met in the division, I thought I recognized your reiatsu. And now, after inspecting your zanpakuto, there's no doubt." He cupped my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "I thought you would have cleaned up a bit after _that incident_. It's a shame though, you got even worse. Not beautiful at all."

I thought I had banished all feelings for him, but I still felt a tightening in my chest as Ryota looked at me in disgust. "You should have at least kept your long hair. It was the only womanly thing about you," he continued.

Blinking back angry tears, I jerked out of his reach and furiously slashed at him with my zanpakuto. Ryota lazily dodged the blow, but the flames caught on the kido barrier, slowly burning it away.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your real identity—it'll be more entertaining for me. Try your best on getting your 'revenge', Ren-chan," he said mockingly. With a last snide grin, he disappeared through a hole in the wall of wraithlike flames.

I vaguely remember screaming at the top of my lungs, mostly just disconnected curse words, yelling until my voice grew hoarse. Breathing heavily, kicked the ground like an upset child. "Why do I always have to lose to him?" I asked the air.

Just then, a familiar voice reverberated through my head, the voice of my zanpakuto. _"A lady is always elegant and poised in battle," _she lectured.

When I started to ask her what the heck she was talking about, she withdrew again, closing our mental connection. "Honestly," I complained, "you pop in randomly, give me some old lady advice without explanation, and then leave."

Marginally calmer after my outburst, I held out my zanpakuto. "You can stop burning now, you pyromaniac," I said and tapped the chain around my arm with my other index finger. The firestorm set off a small fireworks display, probably because of my comment, and fizzled out. The chain unclamped from my arm and shortened again, the sword no longer ablaze.

Shuuhei approached from the cleared field, which by now, had drawn a small crowd. "So," I began, deftly winding the black cloth around the tsuka again, "let's go stop for lunch now. I'm hungry." I securely fastened my zanpakuto to my obi*.

He pinched the bridge of his nose crossly. "The first thing you say after _that_ is '_I'm hungry_'? Seriously?" he asked frustratedly.

"I had it under control. Besides," I said, waving impatiently, "I'm in the mood for some okonomiyaki*."

"Fine, let's go get your damn food," he said irritably and stalked off.

I followed quietly behind him, wondering why he was so annoyed. He walked at an incredible pace, to where I had to jump and dodge obstacles in the street to keep. Finally, I lost it when I almost got run over by a vendor cart selling takoyaki*. "That's it!" I shouted and stomped over to him. "Hey, Shuuhei," I tried, but he kept on. "For kami's sake," I cried and grabbed the back of his shihakusho. Finally, he stopped and turned around with an uncharacteristic scowl on his face.

"What is your problem?" I demanded. I had never seen Shuuhei this angry before. "You're not supposed to be as mood-swingy as me," I joked, but he took no notice.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was? Your reiatsu was going crazy! I was about ready to break down that kido barrier, but you already set it on fire! I couldn't get to you, and then I heard you screaming…" he thundered.

I held my hands up defensively. "Look, you know I wouldn't do anything stupid." Shuuhei raised an eyebrow accusingly. "Okay, maybe I do some…unnecessary things, but you know I wasn't in any real danger. I was just having a…heated man-to-man discussion."

Shuuhei exhaled slowly, like he was trying to calm himself. "Look, I don't even know why I'm so pissed off right now. Maybe it's because I don't know why I'm angry that I'm angry."

"I don't know what you just said, but…," I smiled tentatively, "we're cool now, right?"

He breathed out once again, and regained his usual calmness, more or less. "Yeah, we're cool."

"Good, because I am soooo hu—_oof_!" I was about to stress how ridiculously hungry I was. That was until I was interrupted by a missile that slammed into my legs I lurched backward slightly, more due to surprise than force, but whatever had hit me bounced into the ground.

The breath almost knocked out of me, I righted myself and inspected the wriggling mass. As my vision cleared, I realized I was staring at a little girl, with shining golden-blonde hair and large caramel-colored eyes, sparkling with tears.

Leaning down, I offered her a hand, gently pulling her up. The girl immediately latched onto my leg, sobbing hysterically. "It's all my fault! Mean guys came and they scared me and onii-sama protected me and I got lost and—and—I can't find them!" she howled. I clumsily patted her head, trying to soothe the little girl. Soon, her wailing lessened to small hiccups, though my hakama was soaked with tears and kid snot.

Shuuhei crouched down, but the girl shied away, hiding on the other side of my leg. "Little miss, we'll find your mother and brother, okay?" he said soothingly. Eventually, she peeped out from behind my leg, enough for him to ruffle her hair affectionately.

"Mitsuko! Mitsuko!" called a nearby voice. The little girl squealed delightedly and rushed into the crowd.

Both Shuuhei and I dashed after her, but stopped when we saw her jump into the arms of a young man, probably the "onii-sama" she was crying about. He hugged her affectionately and I couldn't help smile faintly. The little girl turned around and said something, gesturing toward us excitedly. Slowly, we approached the two.

The young man smoothly set her down, stepping in front of her protectively. I was met with arrogant, intensely green eyes fringed by dark honey blonde hair, drawn in an expression that I recognized as the "Eeew-A-Commoner-Bug-Look". They were completely unlike the wide, trusting eyes of the girl. A thin line of blood trickled from a small cut under his cheekbone, marring otherwise perfect porcelain skin.

"Great, a spoiled rich brat," I said to myself.

"I am Tatsuo, Heir to the Head of the Nakatomi Clan," he introduced himself, looking at me expectantly. "This is my sister, Mitsuko." I distantly remembered the Nakatomi Clan as some high-up noble family, just below the four great noble houses in ranking.

Shuuhei tapped my shoulder, motioning for me to copy him and bow. Grumbling, I complied. "We beg your pardon, ouji-sama, hime-sama," he said politely.

"I suppose you deserve thanks for looking after Mitsuko. You are both shinigami, correct?" asked the prince-boy.

"Obviously," I muttered. I never cared for the reverent speech that accompanied interaction with stuffy aristocrats. It wasn't like he was some old master either. He was probably only a few years younger than me.

The nobleman glanced at me sharply, but continued on. "Then," he paused, looking pained, "I require your service," he said with difficulty, like it was agonizing to ask for help.

Before we could ask him what for, there was a large commotion behind him. A mob of shady characters that seemed very criminal-like burst into the square. There were about twenty or thirty of them, all carrying varying degrees of deadly weapons. They were dressed in impressive black uniforms, even masking their faces.

"It's the bad men!" Mitsuko shrieked and clung to her brother tightly.

"Look, there they are!" one thug yelled, pointing at the noble. They immediately regrouped and charged toward the prince. Surprisingly, he pulled out a decorated knife from inside the folds of his ridiculously expensive-looking kimono, struggling to look brave, despite paling considerably.

"Look, stupid assassins that attack in broad daylight," I taunted, stepping in front of the prince. "Let me guess, those guys are trying to kill you and your sister." He nodded, frowning. I doubted he would be a help against even one of these guys. In fact, he looked as if he was about to faint already.

"You better step back, prince-boy. That pretty knife won't do much in a battle," I said. The noble looked at me indignantly. "Hey Shuuhei," I called to him, stretching in preparation, "you up for a contest? The loser treats."

"You're just trying to get me to pay for your pig-out," Shuuhei complained, and cast a kido barrier around the prince and his sister.

"You know you want to~" I wheedled. Shuuhei just rolled his eyes.

Grinning, I studied the group of mediocre assassins. "Free lunch and stress relief, what a great combo!" I sang, and assumed a fighting stance. "This day may turn out to be a good one after all."

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><p><strong>Terms &amp; TranslationsExplanations:**

**Shiranui**: can be translated to "mysterious light(s) on the sea" or "unknown fire"; name of legendary optical phenomenon that appeared to be dancing fires on the horizons of the Ariake Sea and the Yatsushiro Sea; was believed to be fiery yokai until modern day science proved it to be a combination mirage and other blah

**Ochoko**: the small cups found in a sake set

**Oyasumi: **familiar/casual form of oyasumi nasai; "good night"

**Daitō: **general term for a longsword, ranging from a katana to nōdachi (Ren's zanpakuto is a moderately long katana.)

**Tsuba: **the metal cross-guard

**Saya**: the wooden scabbard

**Tsuka**: the hilt

**Ito**: (or tsuka-ito) the cloth/cloth wrap around the tsuka; usually in a diamond pattern

**Sageo**: the knots on the saya that allow it to be attached to the obi

**Obi**: the cloth belt used to fasten the kimono

**Okonomiyaki**: usually described as a "Japanese pancake", but it's more like a "savory pancake" with many different regional styles; Osaka-style incudes nagaimo (like taro), aonori, katsuobushi (bonito flakes), Okonomiyaki sauce, Dashi stock, Beni shouga (pickled & red-dyed ginger), tenkasu (fried tempura batter), sakura ebi (optional, tiny shrimp), sliced pork belly, cabbage, eggs, and flour

**Takoyaki: **fried/grilled batter with octopus bits

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><p><strong>AN: Yay! The plot thickens (like soup?)! **

**Unfortunately, Ryota is not an idiot and has already figured out Ren's plot. He has decided not to reveal her identity however, for his own twisted amusement. No, Ren did not have to release her shikai, due to Ryota's interruption. So, she's strangely indebted to him, I guess. We get to see some more interesting emotional outbursts in this chapter, especially from "Shuu-niichan". It was fun writing that drunken scene. The main story is beginning to speed up with the introduction of Tatsuo and Mitsuko Nakatomi. Tatsuo's around Ren's age and a bit of a rich, spoiled brat, not to mention a delicate pretty-boy (COUGH**_**bishōnen**_**COUGH). Mitsuko is his adorably sweet younger sister and a classic case of an opposite sibling. This chapter didn't have Ruri though, but don't count her out just yet. She'll appear later (because she's a friend of Matsumoto!). **

**Oh, and I've decided that I will do a Hisagi POV snippet. It'll probably be released in a chapter or so. Woo, more work for me…**

**I appreciate any criticism, constructive or just fluff. I really do pay attention!**

**And don't forget to read Rheheemoth-sensei's stories. I recommend Siren's Song and Shy Away From You.**

**Thanks for putting up with me and my rambling,**

**-CodenameOokami**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm such a horrible author! I haven't posted a new chapter in _months_! I'll try not to be so slow again! Forgive me! m(_ _)m**

**Actually, I had this chapter finished for a while, but I was working on my Hisagi POV omake, which I was originally going to post first, but the darned thing is extremely hard to write. So, I finally decided to just go ahead and post this new chapter. Hehehe. Please don't kill me. **

**I don't want to waste your time with more rambling, so I'll save it for the end note. So, here's—**

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><p>Chapter 6<p>

"Five!" I shouted cheerfully, slamming my foot into the black-clad chest of one of the assassins, with enough force to shatter bones. "Oh, sorry, I was a bit too rough there, buddy," I said, wincing at the man now curled up into a fetal position on the ground, moaning in pain. I had honestly tried to hold back with my kicks, which had knocked the last four completely unconscious. They wouldn't be waking up for a long time.

As I had suspected, these assassins weren't much of a threat. They chose to attack in the middle of the day in a busy marketplace with dozens of witnesses and still chose to charge after seeing two armed shinigami. Nevertheless, many of the townspeople had either run away or hid at the sight of them. Even if they had potentially deadly weapons, they swung them haphazardly with the clumsiness that accompanied lack of training.

"Maybe I should just stick to open-fisted strikes," I contemplated. "Or should I use some of those cool pressure point jabs? I've always wanted to test those out." Turning to two approaching thugs, I asked them, "Which one of you would prefer the knife-hand chop and which one would like the paralyzing touch?"

They simply glanced at each other, before yelling and swinging their swords. "Do you guys always have to scream before you attack?" I complained, leisurely dodging their lazy moves. In one fluid movement, I ducked past the space between them. "Sure, if you do it once or twice it has some nice dramatic effect, but if you do it all the time, then it's just annoying and lame." With a couple of decisively placed attacks with the heel of my hand, the taller one crumpled into the ground, clutching a broken shoulder. Turning to the other one, I swiftly struck several weak points on his body and he collapsed, immobilized. "That was _so_ cool!" I yelped excitedly. Turning to my fukutaichou, I held out seven fingers. "That makes seven, Shuuhei!"

Glancing at me from the corner of his eye, Shuuhei nodded, mildly impressed. "Remind me to order some extra shrimp and scallops with my soba. It's a bit expensive, but since I've already defeated _twelve, _I'm sure a certain Chihuahua wouldn't mind making up the difference_,_" he said, smirking teasingly.

"The idea of eating tough seafood makes me queasy," I frowned, wrinkling my nose. "But I'm pretty sure the feeling will go away…after I have some _free_ okonomiyaki!" I said defiantly, and snapped my elbow backwards, into the gut of the bastard that tried to sneak up on me while I was talking.

It seemed that this guy was bigger and more brutish than most of the others, and he actually recovered from the blow. Raising a hulking arm, he slashed downwards at my head with a massive nodachi*. "Holy crap, that's a huge sword!" I yelped, skirting around the bulky weapon. My attention was quickly diverted by Shuuhei though, who held two masked men by their collars, their swords already knocked out of their hands.

It was what he was saying that made me burst into hysterical laughter. "You see, the key with the scallops is to poach them," he explained in a well-practiced teacher voice to his dazed captives. "You need to gently simmer them for the best flavor and texture. Remember, _overcooked seafood is worthless_." With that, he tossed both of them into group of other rushing assassins, and an embarrassing number of them were knocked into the ground by their flailing comrades. A couple more tripped over the fallen, which only succeeded in making me laugh so much harder.

"He—really—so much like him—cooking lessons—hahaha!" I wheezed in between breaths, clutching my sides. Wiping away tears, I attempted to regain my composure, but I was interrupted by another swipe from the oaf with big sword. I sidestepped the blade and whirled around angrily. "You have to stop doing that!" I growled, kicking the sword out of his sloppy grip. He roared in fury and picked up a wooden cart full of fruit. Holding it above his head, he brandished it threateningly. Most of the melons in the cart rolled out and smashed into the ground.

The ape of man swung the cart down at me, resulting in a burst of splintering wood. I reappeared a few feet away, unharmed. "Didn't your mother tell you…" I began in a low voice, picking up a good-sized watermelon that didn't get destroyed, "_not to waste food_!" and threw the projectile at full force at the man's oversized stomach. Pink melon flesh exploded as he was propelled backwards, crashing into and through a wall, where he twitched a couple of times and then stopped moving. Luckily, the building seemed to be unoccupied, but I had a feeling that Muguruma-taichou wouldn't be too pleased about the damage costs.

I was about to announce another victory, but I got sidetracked by a new group of assassins moving toward the kido barrier. They must have been a second force that had gotten separated from the rest of their comrades. I saw the prince tighten his grip on his fragile ornate knife, as his little terrified sister clung to him and burst into tears. I snarled viciously, and shunpoed in front of them. To anyone else but Shuuhei, it must have seemed like I had materialized magically.

"You low-life scumbags!" I shouted, pointing to the startled crowd, "You made a little girl cry! If you know what's good for you, apologize to her right now!"

For a moment, they stood there, confused. Then, with a short nod from who seemed to be the leader of the group, they stampeded toward the barrier, utterly disregarding me. They didn't get very far however. "Did you just…_ignore_ _me_?!" I asked incredulously, grabbing one guy by the back of his uniform, furiously shaking him. Disgusted, I threw him to the ground, snapping his poorly-maintained sword over my knee.

"You guys really just try your hardest to _piss me off_!" I roared, throwing the parts of the fragmented blade at two of the men, pinning them to the ground by their clothing. Using their bodies as springboards, I flipped in front of the line of assassins. Without hesitation, I took out three of the men with crushing punches, reducing them to heaps of crooked human parts. Dancing around all of their frenzied assaults, I steadily picked them off with unrestrained attacks. Demolishing several men with vicious consecutive kicks, I sent them flying across the street and into buildings. Like a bomb had just gone off, most of the group was blasted away by similar methods. All except for one, who didn't charge like the rest.

With a gold-trimmed black suit and a self-confident, authoritative air, he was easily distinguishable from his frantically attacking comrades. Undoubtedly, he was the leader, and I remembered him as the one that gave the signal to go after the Nakatomi siblings. Slowly and surely, he turned to face me with his katana, shifting into a low, powerful stance. I surveyed him sharply, slightly startled at his form, which looked impressively trained. I cocked my head quizzically. _That's strange. He saw me annihilate his entire team with ease, but he doesn't seem the least bit affected. _

"You aren't drawing your zanpakuto, little shinigami?" he taunted in an exceedingly confident manner.

I bristled at his insult. "I'm not fond of killing in front of children," I retorted, but inwardly, I was careful of his movements. Something about the guy made me extremely apprehensive.

Without warning, the man stormed at me with surprising speed. Any faster and he would have been using shunpo. I might have lost my arm if I hadn't been quicker to react. "You've underestimated me, little shinigami," he said smugly, continuing to strike at my head with controlled, fierce blows.

"Actually, I think it's the other way around. I don't want to sound like I'm bragging, but we're not some low-level patrol officers. It's kind of obvious, isn't it?" I said provokingly, dodging his flashing sword.

"In that case," he said, leveling his sword at me. A beam of crackling blue spiritual energy ricocheted off his blade, singing the sleeve of my shihakusho as I leapt away at the last second.

I stared in amazement. The attack was strangely similar to kido, like he had channeled a byakurai through his sword. "You know kido? Are you a shinigami?" I demanded. I never excelled at any reiatsu-sensing skills, but I thought I would be able to tell if this man was a shinigami. The man didn't answer, but I sensed he was grinning under his mask.

I slowed my movements, concentrating on reading his spiritual energy, but found…nothing. Experimentally, I struck at his screened face and he immediately jerked backwards. This was getting more suspicious by the moment. "Who paid you to go after the prince and his sister?"

Suddenly, the man moved at blurring speed. "Shunpo?!" Whoever he was, this man definitely had shinigami training at some point or another.

"You're too curious for your own good, little shinigami," he hissed, drawing an evil-looking antique dagger. The serrated blade radiated a sickening green aura that hissed as it dripped off of the knife's forked tip. "One stab from Mamushi* and all your spiritual energy will drain away until you're nothing more than a lifeless shell."

I narrowed my eyes. "Ouji, make sure your sister doesn't watch," I ordered and he nodded curtly, sheathing his knife. He picked his younger sibling up, drawing her face close to his chest and gently holding the back of her head.

"I'm really getting tired of the 'little shinigami'. Can't you come up with a better insult?" I mocked, fingering the handle of my zanpakuto.

"That's big talk…coming from _such_ a little man," he countered, raising both his katana and that creepy dagger.

I stomped my feet in indignation. "Seriously, what is with everyone calling me 'little'? I'm probably only a couple centimeters shorter than you!"

As I was finishing my sentence, the man, using shunpo, attacked me with a wide sweep from his katana, no doubt intended to distract me from a stab with the knife. Both blades never made their mark however, as a blur of shining metal crashed into the katana, sending it flying. In another flash, it swung down on the man. He jumped back a moment too late, clutching his bloody wounds in agony. The poisonous dagger skittered across the ground, a few feet away from the sword.

"I thought I already told you before, but it's _you_ that's underestimating _me_," I reminded him, sheathing my zanpakuto. "The only reason you're still alive is because of the girl that you're trying to kill. Now, be a good criminal and tell me who paid you to knock off the rich kids." I took a few imposing steps closer to the slumped man, only to be knocked off balance by a rocky fissure in the pavement.

"Dammit! Why can't I just be cool for a few minutes?" I whined, dusting off my shihakusho. "Who put that pothole there—oh wait…I think that happened when I flipped that guy that weighed a ton. Whoops…the taichou won't be too happy about that either. That _and_ all those buildings—!"

I was so busy cursing my luck that I barely noticed Shuuhei come up behind me. "Hey Ren, while you go on ranting, you do know that he's escaping, right?" he sighed, putting one hand on my shoulder. The other extended to point at the black figure running frenziedly down the street.

"Wha—Shuuhei?" I stammered, shocked by his sudden appearance, but I quickly followed his pointing finger. "Oh, crap! Er—Bakudo#4: Hainawa!"

Moments later, the figure buckled, entangled by a glowing yellow rope of spiritual energy, and crumpled onto the ground. Shunpoing over there and back, I dumped his struggling body in front of Shuuhei. "This arrogant moron seems to be the leader of these 'assassins'," I said, making sarcastic quoting motions. "Honestly, I got seventeen of them, and I was holding back. This guy was all high-and-mighty because he could shoot some half-assed kido lightning."

Shuuhei's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Are you sure he used a byakurai?"

"He used some weak shunpo too. Whoever he is, he's obviously had some shinigami-type training, however sloppy it was, but not enough for me to recognize his reiatsu as shinigami-like. And he waved around this weird knife." I delicately picked up the disgusting dagger by the handle with two fingers, handing it to Shuuhei.

"A Reiryoku-draining blade," he said distastefully, "Potentially devastating against low-level shinigami and civilians, but completely ineffective against those with stronger spiritual power—and forget about seated officers. It's not even useful for in normal combat." He flicked the blade with his index finger and it vibrated a couple of times before disintegrating in a cloud of greenish dust. We both looked at each other in bewilderment, but then shrugged it off. "Nevertheless, they're still pretty rare and ridiculously expensive to make. Which brings us back to _you_," he said, turning to face the bound man, who tried to squirm backwards. I recognized the intimidating steel stirring in his gray eyes, but this time, they also gained a frightening quality, the same darkness that he had displayed while we were sparring.

Pulling out his zanpakuto, Shuuhei inspected the blade leisurely. "So…you seem like a big talker, _sir_. Why don't you _entertain_ us with a few stories? Because I'm feeling quite _bored_ now," he said in a deceptively calm manner, punctuating words with a close swipe from his katana, just barely missing the other man's head.

I stepped back from the two, sensing Shuuhei didn't need any help. "I think you can handle the torture—sorry, _questioning_—by yourself. I'm going to check on the spoiled brat and the little girl."

Shuuhei waved his hand, continuing to fiddle with his zanpakuto, and the kido barrier disappeared. I wouldn't say I ran away from the pitiable scene, but I definitely didn't want to be anywhere near Shuuhei's ominously darkening reiatsu.

As I approached the two siblings, I was greeted by an excited high-pitched squealing and a marginally less condescending scowl. "Oneechan! Oneechan!" she warbled happily and I almost tripped again.

I knelt to the precocious girl, rubbing her fair, angelic hair affectionately. "Tell you what, I'll call you Mitsu-chan if you call me Ren-chan, okay?" I whispered and the child nodded serenely. _What a weird kid,_ I thought. Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Turning to the somewhat confused prince, I rose to my full height. Fortunately, I stood as tall as him. "While Shuuhei's interrogating that guy, I have a couple of questions to ask too," I said loudly, successfully shifting his attention.

"The Gotei 13 have no business in the dealings of noble families," he snapped coldly, just when I thought he had toned down the ego dial.

"Listen, you ungrateful brat, we just saved your ass, no matter how 'noble' it was. And it would be _courteous_ to let us know exactly why we had to postpone lunch," I growled, already feeling my temper ignite.

Before I was about to strangle him however, the prince lowered his gaze, his expression softening. Now he just looked like a confused, frightened teenager. I sighed, trying to calm down.

"Look, I'm pretty sure we can offer you some kind of protection, if you can bend your pride and ask," I said as gently as possible.

"We already have a shinigami guard," he said stiffly. "He was protecting our mother when we were separated."

Just when I was about to ask who the stupid guard was, there was a small explosion a couple meters away. Immediately, I jumped in front of the siblings, fighting stance already in place.

"Tatsuo! Mitsuko!" called a worried female voice. Bewildered, I watched as an incredibly beautiful woman emerged from the dust cloud following the explosion. She moved impossibly elegantly, like she was gliding across the debris, her elaborate kimono bearing no signs of the rubble. I was immediately reminded of the nagging that I endured from Shiranui. This woman was the epitome of a traditional Japanese woman, everything that my zanpakuto tried, unsuccessfully, to sculpt me into.

Surprisingly, it was the prince that reacted first. "Okaasan!" he cried, rushing over to his mother, with a bouncing Mistuko close behind. He tenderly grasped her arm and her back, trying to support her petite frame. "You shouldn't be overexerting yourself. You could hurt yourself and the baby," he said in a concerned voice. I watched as the woman gladly accepted the help, placing a hand on her stomach, which displayed a small, but definitely noticeable bulge. Mitsuko tugged at her mother's free hand, babbling incessantly.

Watching the reunion, I couldn't help but feel my mood brighten at the heartwarming scene. Brushing aside my sulking, I walked over to introduce myself. The woman smiled and I was taken aback by the sincere kindness that she radiated.

"Um…hi," I began clumsily, and I was rewarded by an affronted sigh from a certain prissy noble boy. "I mean, Ren Moriyama, Sixth Seat of Division 9, at your service!" I belted out and bowed awkwardly. It was the only official-sounding thing I could think of.

"I am Masami of the Nakatomi Clan. I would like to express my gratitude to you, for protecting Tatsuo and Mitsuko. I am in your debt," she said and delicately inclined her head in return.

"I had help from my fukutaichou," I muttered, praying for Shuuhei to make an entrance. He seemed to handle these situations well. "I'm glad to see you weren't hurt…ojou-sama."

"You may call me Masami," she corrected. Leaning forward, she whispered, "Being called 'lady' or 'ma'am' makes me feel old, especially when being addressed by such handsome young men."

"K-k-kaasan!" her son spluttered and I chuckled nervously. Masami merely smiled at her son's flustered fussing. Maybe she wasn't as unapproachably sophisticated as she first seemed.

"Speaking of handsome men, is that your fukutaichou, Ren-san? He's certainly masculine," she teased, seeming to enjoy making her son fret.

"Shuuhei!" I cried in relief. "How did the questioning go?"

Momentarily forgetting about the nobles, I shifted aside to talk to Shuuhei. His eyebrows were drawn together in thought, an expression so unique, so _Shuuhei-like_ that I couldn't help but smile. His eyes immediately snapped onto mine, but after seeing flashes of worry begin to swirl in his eyes, now a stormy gray, I felt my grin fade.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my face mirroring his.

Running a hand through his unruly hair, he sighed heavily. "The assassin—Kakeru, I think—is a rogue shinigami and dropped out shortly after Academy, which explains his basic kido and shunpo skills. Now he's just a commander of some mercenary group. That's pretty much all I could get out from him before he flopped. Nothing about the guys that hired them, but that's what I expected—he doesn't seem important enough to be completely in on the dealings. The knife was all we had to go on and now it's a pile of dust somewhere."

"This is getting messy," I complained, scowling emphatically. Remembering my manners, I scrambled to introduce the new noble on the scene. "Oh, um, this is…Masami-san. She's the mother of Mitsu-chan and Chibi-Ouji."

"Shuuhei Hisagi, fukutaichou of the Ninth Division, pleased to meet you," Shuuhei said politely and bowed, over an outraged cry of "Chibi-Ouji?!".

Suddenly, I recalled a comment by the prince. "Wait! Masami, there was a shinigami guarding you when you guys got separated, right? Where is he right now?"

A little startled, she nodded. "He should be here soon. He was the one that created that explosion."

Shuuhei raised a dark eyebrow. "Soon? He should be right next to you at all times. What division is this man from?"

"The Ninth," said a derisive voice behind me. Prickles danced on the back of neck as I span around, zanpakuto already drawn. Sure enough, there was that deceptively charming, pearly white smile, so visible against his perfectly tanned skin. "Really, you should have recognized my handiwork, _Hisagi-fukutaichou_."

"Ryota," I growled, still not lowering my sword.

"Oh, it's you, _Sixth_ Seat. Better be careful with that overgrown candlestick. You might hurt yourself, greenhorn," he drawled. From this angle, the sunlight made his hair appear to radiate light in a faint halo.

I lifted the sword point toward his throat. A brief shadow flickered across his face, but he blinked and it disappeared. "Yeah, I can be pretty clumsy sometimes. So," I paused, moving the blade to his lower body, close to certain _prized parts,_ "you never know when my hand can just…_slip._" I sliced downwards, my sword whistling in the air, dangerously close.

Ryota paled almost imperceptibly, subtly inching away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shuuhei grimace, and even the uptight prince winced faintly, muttering about "Man's honor". Soundlessly, I sheathed my zanpakuto and took several steps backward, settling for crossing my arms intimidatingly.

Struggling to maintain his nonchalant façade, Ryota cleared his throat loudly. "Jeez, fukutaichou, you really found a crazy one here! He has mood swings like PMS-ing chick." I tightened my hands around the tsuba again. "And he seems completely unreliable in a fight." Ryota had already said that he wouldn't reveal my secret, but it wasn't like he was trustworthy. But aside from the subtle jibes, he didn't approach the topic.

"Well, he was reliable enough to defeat eighteen armed assassins with just his bare hands," Shuuhei said warmly.

"And a watermelon," I muttered, beginning to feel a bit self-conscious.

"On top of that he defeated and captured the commander, a trained rogue-shinigami, and demonstrated physical _and_ mental strength. I'm glad to have him fighting by my side," he continued.

Being praised so enthusiastically was extremely abnormal and frankly, it just made me uncomfortable. I may have even colored mildly, if I wasn't so focused with trying to keep my cool around Ryota.

Fidgeting nervously, my eyes wandered around, managing to meet Masami-san's. She must have sensed my agitation, because she immediately drew up to us, exuding a soothing aura of kindheartedness.

"Ryota-san, this is most unlike you! Ren-san has done a wonderful job in protecting Tatsuo and Mitsuko. In fact, why don't you join us for dinner? Hisagi-san would be most welcome too," she suggested, trying to divert our attention.

"Eh? I-I don't think—I mean, thank you, but—" I stammered. There was no way I could match the skilled etiquette of trained nobles. I would probably end up embarrassing both myself and Shuuhei.

"We look forward to seeing you this evening," Shuuhei interrupted.

"I'll send a servant to escort you to the estate," she assured, smiling demurely. Her daughter bounced around happily, excited at the prospect of guests. On the other hand, her son scowled slightly, furrowing his blonde brows in a teenage noble manner of pouting.

"Thank you. Unfortunately, we have to report back to the Division as soon as possible, so we'll have to bear without your company until the evening," Shuuhei said, bowing graciously.

"How gentlemanlike!" she piped, giggling unexpectedly. How old was this woman? It seemed like she was an mature, refined housewife one moment and a mischievous teenage girl the next.

Before I could protest though, Mitsuko ambushed me with a hug, wrapping her arms around my leg. "Yay, oneechan is coming! Oneechan is coming!" she chirped, with the most adorable smile I had ever seen.

Feeling myself cave, I reached down and patted her head. "Didn't I tell you to call me Ren-chan, Mitsu-chan?" I scolded lightly, but she only giggled in response.

The little angel beamed innocently. "We're having green tea ice cream, Ren-chan!" she cheered.

"Now who decided that, young lady?" her mother scolded, beckoning to her daughter, "Let Ren-san go—they have to leave now." With one last squeeze, Mitsuko bounded over to her, waving cutely.

Waving back, I turned to Shuuhei and nodded. Before we turned to leave however, I heard Ryota's snide voice. "See you later…_Ren-Ren,_" he mocked.

If Shuuhei hadn't grabbed my arm, I probably would have been trying to hack off Ryota's man parts. "Let's go get lunch, Ren. I'll treat," he insisted.

Taking a deep breath, I shook myself out of his grasp and stomped ahead, trying to rein in my anger.

Soon enough, I heard Shuuhei's footsteps grow closer. Moving to my side, he fell in step with me. "I know a great okonomiyaki place," he said and grinned experimentally at me.

"It better be some awesome okonomiyaki then," I retorted, but relaxed my footsteps.

**88888888**

"This is amazing!" I exclaimed in reverence, swallowing another mouthful of steaming hot food. Shuuhei nodded, grinning self-assuredly, and continued to make another plate.

By the time that we had arrived at the restaurant, my annoyance had faded enough to regret snapping at Shuuhei. Feeling guilty, I made up my mind to be as pleasant as possible for the rest of today.

Since we'd be stalled by paperwork if we went back to the Division immediately, we had no choice but to haul along that captive "assassin". The restaurant staff didn't seem to mind too much about the black-clad man bound to the chair. He was still unconscious anyways.

Even though Shuuhei said that this place had the best okonomiyaki, I realized that he was actually doing the cooking at this self-serve restaurant. I watched in complete awe as he effortlessly flipped the ingredients, continuing to hold a casual conversation with some waitress that had way too much perfume on. Wasn't she supposed to be serving the rest of the customers?

Trying to hold onto my decision to be nice, I didn't even yell at the passing waiter that accidentally dumped a bowlful of cabbage onto my head.

"No, it's okay, sir," I assured the waiter, standing up and trying to brush off the cabbage bits. He persisted in trying to wipe off the splatter, which was starting to annoy me. "I can clean up the r—" I said, but then felt something extremely uncomfortable and hand-like on my chest.

"I told you,sir, _I can do it myself_," I said darkly, grabbing his hand and twisting it disarmingly. "I mean," I caught myself, "you probably have other customers to help," and smiled apologetically. Nevertheless, the man scurried away in fright.

I slapped my forehead in frustration. I swear it was the woman's perfume that was putting me on edge. The commotion caused by her coworker didn't even faze the giggly waitress, who continued to prattle emptily.

"Excuse me miss, could I get some extra napkins?" I asked politely, but she just kept on talking. "People just insist on ignoring me today," I muttered irritably.

Thankfully, Shuuhei stopped her and requested for my extra napkins. Of course she listened when he said it.

"What's the matter? You seem tense," he said good-naturedly. I relaxed slightly after the waitress disappeared.

"I don't know…I guess it was just that woman's perfume. My sense of smell is a bit…sensitive," I said, wrinkling my nose.

He chuckled at my excuse. "I remember you saying that you smelled me out when we were sparring. I guess Chihuahua was a perfect nickname for you."

"I feel like I should be somewhat offended," I said jokingly, feeling well enough to continue on my fifth plate.

"I'm still amazed by just how much food that you can inhale. I'm going to go bankrupt if I keep treating you," he teased, steadily poking at his own food.

"Speaking of that, what happened with the contest we had? I thought the person who took down the most assassins would free lunch."

Shuuhei stared guiltily at the spatula. "I remember. You took down eighteen."

I chewed a mouthful thoughtfully. "But how many did you beat?" I asked, somewhat hopeful.

"…Maybe close to thirty or more," he said finally, with almost a regretful air.

"EHH?!" I exclaimed. "So you won the contest? Then, why did you-"

"Because I wanted to," he interrupted decidedly, "Besides, you captured that guy," and pointed to the heap of a man tied to a chair a few feet away. "He has to count for a bit."

"Meh. I give him three points. But you knew you won by a long shot and still treated me to lunch!"

He shrugged, placing another plate of okonomiyaki in front of me, in a seeming attempt to distract me. Struggling furiously, I managed to focus on his face and not the delicious aroma that continued to waft towards my nose.

"I give up! You're just too…too _nice_ sometimes. You keep doing stuff like that and I feel…uncomfortable, like I'm being babied!" I said, struggling to find appropriate words.

"Wait…so you're saying that you're 'uncomfortable' with me…_being friendly_?" he asked, shaking his head in exasperation. "Just when I thought I've got you figured out, you turn around and do something completely unexpected."

I sobered, thinking he was annoyed, but the lighthearted smile on his lips said otherwise. With only a small amount of indignation, I picked up my chopsticks and started on the offering of food. "Are you usually this friendly with all of your subordinates, then?" I blurted, the question plaguing me since the beginning.

For once, Shuuhei seemed to be flustered. He should have said yes immediately, of course he was as kind with everyone else. But somehow, the words didn't come out.

"Here are you extra napkins, Shuu-chan~!" squealed a high-pitched voice that made me cringe reflexively. The waitress with the ridiculous amount of perfume was back and was insistent on completely ignoring me again.

"They're for me," I snapped, snatching the napkins and wiping down my front. She merely sniffed at me with an upturned nose. "Is this your younger brother then? He's a cute little one!" she said abruptly, but only looked at Shuuhei. "But, you know, I prefer men that more _masculine_." Scooting closer, she lightly traced his exposed bicep. Shuuhei inched away politely, but the woman didn't seem to take the hint.

"I'm not hungry anymore!" I growled, jumping up from the table, nearly flipping it over. Grabbing the bound assassin, I slung him over my back, making the waitress grow pale. As Shuuhei paid the bill hurriedly, I began to walk away, but doubled back. Taking a hand off of my hold on the captive, I pointed at her angrily. "Lady, if you want to catch a man that badly, then stop bathing in perfume that smells like rotten flowers! Just being next to you gives me a crazy headache!"

As the woman huffed furiously, I span around on my heel, almost whacking her with the limp man on my shoulder, and stormed out of the restaurant. In the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Shuuhei's form burst out of the restaurant, but I increased my pace, even as I heard my name shouted several times. Without a backwards glance, I shunpoed back to the division, not waiting for Shuuhei.

**88888888**

"Ah, I get it now…" she said wisely, twirling the lollipop in her mouth. Refusing to elaborate, the pixie-like blonde woman leapt off the table, pointing the brightly colored candy at my nose. "You're jea-lous~!" she sang, spinning around in circles, laughing hysterically. "Don't you get it—it's your turn now! It's hilarious!"

"No, I don't get it!" I snapped with unwonted venom. "And I'm NOT jealous! The woman just pissed me off!"

Ruri stopped spinning abruptly and looked at me challengingly. "Uh-huh. Let me guess, you can't pinpoint exactly why you hate her—"

"Her perfume, her high-pitched voice—" I interrupted hotly.

"Or you're annoyed by a bunch of nitpicky things you can't even convey properly. And that all points to _jea-lous-y_," she finished confidently.

"_Or_ I could just hate her," I countered tenaciously. Somehow, the concept of jealousy didn't settle with me. Something in my mind wholeheartedly rejected the idea.

Ruri sighed loudly, whispering something that sounded suspiciously like "denial". From out of nowhere, she whipped out another lollipop and jabbed me in the side repeatedly with it.

"You could have just offered it to me," I grumbled, but grudgingly accepted the candy. Peeling off the multicolored wrapper, I stuck the lollipop in my mouth.

About two seconds later however, I gagged horrifically and yanked the thing out of my mouth, almost vomiting. "What ungodly—?!" I spluttered, not even able to complete my sentence. The flavor was so horrible that you couldn't even discern what it was supposed to be.

"It's Peroran's new special edition MELON flavor!" she said cheerily, unfazed by my retching.

"Me-lon?" I choked out disbelievingly. There was no way that garbage tasted like fruit.

"Mayonnaise-Eggplant-Leek-Oyster Sauce-Natto Flavor!" she explained, like it was the most exciting thing in the world.

"How do people stomach that garbage? It's the most disgusting thing I've ever…" I started, but trailed away when a chillingly malevolent aura began to emanate from Ruri. "I mean, uh…thanks…for the delicious lollipop. I feel much better now."

And predictably, the menacing darkness was replaced by her characteristic sunshiny smile. I shivered at the almost tangible change in temperature. Despite my best friend's easygoing energetic nature, I somehow got the feeling that I didn't want to be on her bad side.

_Is it me or does everyone I know have some kind of hidden dark side?_ I thought wearily. _People are just too complicated. _Somewhere in the distance, or perhaps the distances of my mind, I heard a muffled feminine giggle.

Leaning back tiredly, I gazed off into the sky, speckled with wispy clouds. They drifted lazily across the blue, barely disturbed by the soft breeze. It should have been chilly outside, but the warm noontime sunshine washed over the landscape. Suddenly I felt hands touch my head and shoulder and I jumped forward reflexively, only to be sharply pulled backwards. "You need to relax, Ren-Ren," Ruri said gently, placing my head on her lap. "Rest," she ordered.

"Thanks, Ruri," I replied gratefully, and felt my eyes close on their own. Not fighting my inner tiredness, I lapsed into a world of dreamless unconsciousness, filled with vague warmth and the scent of a familiar, yet unrecognizable flower.

After what seemed to be only a minute, I found myself stirring from a soft tickling sensation on my forehead. I unsuccessfully swiped at the prickling with a lethargic annoyance, but was rewarded by an abrupt slap to my forehead. Completely shocked out of my sleep, I sprang up to be confronted by Ruri, who glared at me, looking positively outraged.

"You almost slapped my face!" she said accusingly.

"You _did_ slap my face!" I retorted, but then noticed the sky, which was no longer filled with the brilliant noontime sunlight. "How long was I asleep?"

"Only two or three hours. Or four. Or five," Ruri answered vaguely, wiggling her fingers.

"That long already?!" I cried, jumping up from the table. "I have to report to the taichou now. I just dropped the assassin at his front door and ran—literally. He's probably not too happy about that," I murmured, grimacing.

"Wait!" Ruri screeched, almost bursting my eardrums.

"_What now_?" I asked exasperatedly. Ruri began to say something, but it seemed like she decided against it.

"Take this!" she chirped, giggling and holding out a small bag. "You'll need it later!"

"Hey! That bag had my money in it!" I complained, shaking the now empty pouch. With an annoyed sigh, I shunpoed toward the taichou's office, already feeling the ringing in my ears.

**88888888**

"Shuuhei already explained what happened. He's probably filled out the paperwork already," muttered the disturbingly calm man. With his arms tensely folded over his chest, my taichou looked anywhere but at my face.

"Oh…are you sick or something?" I asked impulsively. At once, the wandering eyes drilled into mine with a scathingly sharp, unreadable expression. "I mean, you would normally be yelling at me right now, about how I've barely even been here a week and how I already raked up a mountain of damage costs. Did you get a report about the scene when we left? Not to be digging my own grave, but… " I trailed off, taking my own advice. "Do you have fever? Your face is all red."

At once, his eyes began to roam again. He coughed awkwardly, trying to conceal strangely pink tinted cheeks. "Can I just be calm and reasonable without running a fever?"

"Last time I checked Kensei Muguruma was the taichou from the Ninth Division with the hair-trigger temper. Maybe you've just gotten soft, old man," I tried, seeing if he would revert back to the thundering taichou that I knew.

Sure enough, a vein began to throb prominently on his forehead. "Moriyama," he growled warningly.

"That's not all you're known for, of course. I mean, people recognize you more by your white hair than anything. Or is it gray?" I teased, trying to push him back towards normalcy. I heard a muttering of "It's silver!", but no outburst, so I continued. "And those snazzy earrings that you're famous for! Are they designer? They go great with that stylish sleeveless shihakusho!"

"MORIYAMA!" he finally shouted, already out of his seat and clenching the side of his desk with white knuckles.

Relieved at the return to normal behavior, I nodded, smiling sincerely and inclined my head with a mildly apologetic air. "Sorry, Muguruma-taichou, but I think that this is your best look. Calm and cool just isn't your style."

After glaring at me for a second longer, he closed his eyes crossly. "If you want to bother someone, go and annoy Shuuhei. He's been depressed all day. The kid's shut himself in his apartment…_again_."

Feeling slightly guilty, I glanced sideways and rubbed my arm nervously. "Erm, I guess I'll go check up on him then."

"His favorite dessert may or may not be bocchan dango*," he grumbled and his arms resumed their tightly folded position.

"Can this bocchan dango be found at the confectionary near the Tenth Division?" I asked hopefully and got a shrug in response. `

"I'll pick up some strawberry cake for you too then!" I shouted, bolting out the door.

Before I dashed off in the direction of the bakery, I heard a crashing sound in the distance, and a voice that may or may not have said, "What? I don't like sweets! Who told Moriyama that?!"

**88888888**

"It's fine, you're staying at his place right now anyways. You're just...coming back home," I reminded myself, but every step closer to the door made me want to turn tail and run in the opposite direction. I clutched at the box of dango, trying to calm my skittish nerves.

Luckily, I had just enough money to buy a box with three sets of bocchan dango and a slice of strawberry cake. Somehow, Ruri had managed to take my money from my bag and stuff it into the sleeve of my high-necked shitagi without it falling out.

She had replaced the contents of the bag with some accessory-type trinket. After thoughtful inspection, I figured out that it was a hair ornament, a glittering tsubaki, followed by a cascade of beads and miniatures of the blood-red flower. The kanzashi looked expensive, too elegant and delicate to be worn by someone like me.

I laughed at the thought. Why would I need to wear something like that anyway? I had a hard enough time already trying to keep the fact that I was female hidden.

With that not-too-comforting fact, I rapped on the door a bit too harshly. When there was no answer, I knocked again, hearing some noises inside.

Deciding it was probably best for me to say sorry, I cleared my throat and began my awkward, improvised apology-greeting. "Hey Shuuhei, it's me, Ren. I'm sorry for running off…with the assassin…and making you fill out the paperwork by yourself…and for acting cross at the restaurant…and for almost attacking the waitress, even if she deserved it…_If you keep on ignoring me Shuuhei Hisagi, I swear, I will bust down this door right now!_" After a pause, I began a kido incantation, more as a warning than anything. "Ye lord! Mask of flesh and bone, flutter of wings—"

The door swung open as my palm inched towards the door with the incantation. "I gave you the spare key," Shuuhei muttered darkly, seemingly annoyed.

"Oh, right…" I said, and chucked uneasily, fingering the key strung through the thin chain around my neck. My hand reflexively flinched away from the ring, as if it were burning hot.

Shuuhei turned around and walked away, leaving me to awkwardly follow through the open door. I kicked the door shut as quietly as possible and padded through the room behind him. "I brought bocchan dango!" I cried out, not knowing what else to say. "Well…taichou said it was your favorite dessert and I kind of owe you…for today's lunch."

Slowly, he turned around and I subconsciously recoiled, shifting my head to stare at the box of dango that was beginning to crumple in my nervous hands. "What I said before…I really am sorry for all those things…" Instead of waiting for the inevitable, I slammed the box down on the table and made to go grab my bag. "But I guess if you don't want to talk to me anymore…I can go get my stuff now…sorry for causing you so much trouble…"

"It takes a lot more than that to upset me. You should know that by now," he said deliberately, with a tone that spoke of vast patience. "You're always welcome here, Ren…even if you're clumsy and loud and short-tempered and dense." His hand moved as if to ruffle my hair, but instead, he pulled at something in it. "And dangerous…" he breathed, his palm opening to reveal a large, white gardenia blossom. Immediately, a strong, sweet scent perfumed the air, but I didn't feel the usual sharp pain in my head. Maybe that was why Muguruma-taichou was uncomfortable.

"Weird. I didn't smell it until now either," I said, feeling oddly embarrassed. "She probably put it in my hair while I was sleeping—Ruri likes to play pranks on people."

The mention of Ruri's name was like a slap to Shuuhei. He started, blinking like he was coming out of a daze. When I finally looked up into his eyes, I found something indescribably complex churning in them, something that shocked the air out of my lungs. My toes began to tingle as Shuuhei's head began to move.

Not away, but towards me.

It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion, but my mind whirred at full speed. The tingling in my toes spread to my fingers and my heart slammed into my ribcage, almost painfully.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing it all to be a very bad dream. Soon, I would wake up in my bed, feeling shaky, but refreshed. _Wake up!_ I commanded myself, but it wouldn't happen.

I could almost feel the faint whisper of a breath, warm and incredibly real. In the back of my mind, a piercing alarm started blaring. Panic began to stir in the pit of my stomach and I felt like reaching for my zanpakuto. Instead, my fingers fisted tightly into my sides, and tangled themselves in my shihakusho.

Before I could react though, I felt something soft and insistent press against my lips. My eyes flew open in surprise and my mouth parted fractionally in reflex. I tasted something odd and sweet and perfect, the unidentifiable flavor stirring a distant memory.

"Red bean is my favorite one," Shuuhei said, pushing a pink dumpling into my open mouth. For a split second, his fingers brushed against my stunned lips, almost lingering, but he pulled back briskly and time resumed its normal tempo.

All my thoughts and sensations had whipped up into a frenzy, crashing around in my head like some kind of earthquake-tornado-hurricane. I probably would have muttered something unintelligible, but all my brain could comprehend was the dango currently sticking to the roof of my mouth. My mouth moved of its own accord, slowly making my jaw move up and down to chew the dessert. I don't even know that I wasn't breathing until after I had swallowed the dessert.

"So," he cleared his throat, a slight pink still dusting his cheeks. "How was it?" he asked haltingly. As much as he tried to hide it, he was uncomfortable too, but I couldn't figure out why. Not that my brain was functioning properly at the moment, though.

"Uh—um—I—uh—" I stammered, still reeling from what may or may not have happened. "Green!" I squeaked tactlessly.

A look of confusion flashed across his face and he opened his mouth, probably to ask me what my outburst meant, but he would never have the chance. I grabbed a green-colored dumpling and shoved it at full force into his mouth.

As he doubled over, coughing his lungs out, I took the opportunity to dash to the other side of the room. "I have to—to wash my hair—for the—the dinner tonight!" I babbled.

I almost literally dove into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door. My knees went weak and I felt myself sliding down the door. No matter how many deep breaths I took, my heart refused to stop its wild beating.

My head couldn't help but replay the scenario and somewhere deep inside me, I felt a sense of unease, almost…wishful. "Why is this happening to me?" I whispered.

The bell-like tones of Shiranui's voice resounded through my head. "_Foolish girl, do you honestly believe you are ready for the answer?_"she asked with condescending amusement. _"No, it is better for you to continue in your secure oblivion...for now._" And of course she retreated from my consciousness after that.

"Would it kill you to give me advice that _actually makes sense_?!" I hissed in irritation, still clutching the front my shihakusho. I exhaled loudly, realizing that my frustration was getting me nowhere. But at the very least, it finally distracted me from my flustered mess of emotions.

"I have to think through this logically," I said aloud in attempt to stabilize my thought process. "And logic dictates…that…I…I…" I paused, standing up with a growing sense of confidence. The answer appeared to me like the first ray of sunshine cut through the night sky. A warm feeling coursed through me with the sudden realization. It was all so clear, so obviously clear!

"That I don't think about it!"

* * *

><p><strong>Terms &amp; TranslationsExplanations:**

**Nodachi: **a very large, two-handed longsword; the blade was usually around four feet in length

**Mamushi**: Japanese name for a species of native adder/viper

**Bocchan Dango**: traditional dessert made with special rice flour (_mochiko_); this variety comes in a set of green (colored by green tea), white (by egg), and pink (by red bean)

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ah self-denial~! One of man's most peculiar inventions! Also worshipped by nearly all shoujo manga artists. And a little fanfiction author named CodenameOokami.**

**If you hadn't caught on by now though, self-denial is kind of a main theme of this story. I'll **_**try**_** not to make it **_**too**_** frustrating…but no promises. **

**As a bit of a side note (as if this entire author's note wasn't a complete side note itself), I've noticed that my chapters have gotten increasingly longer. I'm thinking 7000-8000 words is a bit much and it seems that it makes a greater delay in my update time, so I'll try to set this chapter as the max word limit.**

**One of the reasons that I take so long in updating (other than just plain author's block) is that I kind of go overboard with some of my research. I'm sorry if people are annoyed with the random Japanese terms and words. I tried to limit them this chapter, but sometimes, I feel like I have to include them. This is originally Japanese, after all.**

**But we get some more time with Ruri in this chapter. She's one of my "author's pets". We'll get to see her in action later (hint, hint). And no, I haven't forgotten about Ren's shikai. Let's just say that when she uses it, it'll be a pivotal event. Or at least, I'm not going to have her use it randomly. **

**I did like that scene with Ryota though. Even if it may be a bit OOC for the OC. He **_**sooooo **_**had ****it coming. If you hadn't noticed though, Ren isn't quite familiar with the Bro Code/"Man's honor". **

**I've set myself up for some pretty intense work later. I'm just horrible with this romance stuff. When will I learn?**

**I hope someone caught the Sket Dance homage. I'm praying that the anime defeats the cancellation gods and comes back soon with another awesome season!**

****But anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. If you haven't though, constructive criticism is appreciated.****

**-**_**Codename Ookami**_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So I'm really ashamed to have the nerve to post this chapter after a more-than-year-long hiatus. I really am sorry for being such a distracted, lazy bum.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 7<p>

Analyzing rock positions and patterns have never been my favorite thing to do. So when I found myself staring at yet another sea of white pebbles and stones, I couldn't suppress a sigh out of sheer boredom. My gesture was not caught by the young heir, who proceeded to point out more boulders and trees with strange enthusiasm.

Now, I somewhat regretted my decision to dart out of the Shuuhei's place and to Masami's estate before him. I was unsure of how to face him after the disaster with the dango, one of the downsides in my plan to stop thinking about the incident. So, I followed my first instinct to flee…and ended up wanting to bash my head in with one of the meticulously placed boulders that littered the place.

At his mother's suggestion, Tatsuo had decided to give me a tour of the Nakatomi manor, which included stopping at every little garden and giving me a trivial monologue about each. "This is Otou-sama's favorite zen garden. He often spends his free time overseeing the maintenance of this garden or meditating here."

Before I could tell him what _I_ thought his father should do in his free time, I was startled by a white object hurtling directly towards us as we passed around a corner. Instinctively, I hit the deck and the missile barely missed my head, continuing on to knock over one of the carefully balanced rocks.

Struggling to hold in several curses, I picked myself off of the floor, trying to look composed. I glared viciously at the culprit, which turned out to be a kickball.

I sighed and grabbed the ball, turning around to face Mitsuko, looking as innocent as ever. She bounced across the porch and jumped at me. Taken aback, I panicked, almost forgetting to catch her.

Dangling precariously in my free arm, she didn't seem to mind. "Ren-chan! Ren-chan! You're here!" she squealed, giggling and swinging her feet, her fairy-like golden locks flying about her face. For a child that had been targeted by a group of assassins earlier in the day, she was surprisingly cheerful.

I coughed awkwardly and set Mistuko down. Well, it was better than 'onee-san'.

"So, where's the green tea ice cream that you promised?" I asked her, feeling my face stretch into a grin despite my best efforts to look stern.

Her brother didn't seem to have any such problems. With his hands on his hips and a cocked eyebrow, he looked exactly like the Academy monitors. "Mitsuko, how many times has Otou-sama told you not to play in the yard?"

"Tch. Uptight little brat," I muttered, bouncing the kickball a couple times. The girl didn't seem to be fazed by her brother's scolding.

"Ren-chan can play with us now, right?" she asked, looking up at me with wide, sparkling eyes, completely ignoring Tatsuo.

I found the word "no" had suddenly escaped my vocabulary. "Yeah, I'll guess I can play a little game before your mom calls us back in for the dinner. Wait…what do you mean by 'us'?"

"I was playing with Mister," she said, as if it was obvious. Before I rolled my eyes in frustration, Mitsuko unlatched herself from my leg and ran towards an approaching figure. "Mister! Mister! Ren-chan said she would play with us!"

As if out of dream, the person emerged from cloudy darkness of the overhang. I barely noticed as the ball dropped from by hand and rolled past my feet, off the porch. My hands clenched into fists as I met eyes a shade darker than mine, tinted by disbelief. The close-cropped black hair from my memory had grown longer, painted by streaks of silver and more lines were etched into the man's strong features. But there was no mistaking that strip of white under his right eye, a scar that I had given him.

"Ren?" he breathed incredulously, more a statement than a question.

"Bastard," I retorted. "So the good-for-nothing father finally shows his face."

My body shook in barely restrained rage that had not diminished in the years that I had last seen the man. He continued to gape in unmasked confusion. "What? You thought I was dead?"

Shaking his head, he cleared his throat, collecting himself. "No, never. I always thought of you and your mother."

I scoffed loudly, but he merely smiled sheepishly. "It's so nice to see you. Kami…you're all grown up now, Ren."

"No thanks to you," I snapped. "Pay off your debts yet, Tsukikawa? Or did you gamble away the money you got from selling off the house? You know, after you tried to sell off your _wife and child_!"

"I stopped. I stopped gambling," he said quietly, touching his scar self-consciously. "I couldn't live with myself after that. I started working, earning an honest living. Eventually, I was taken in by the Nakatomis. I've been working for them ever since, saving enough for me to rebuy the house…so we can be a family again."

I laughed resentfully. "I go by Moriyama now, old man. Don't you _ever_ think we can just forgive you and be one big, happy family. I will _never_ forget your cowering face, doing nothing as your _friends_ grabbed Mother and beat her and smashed and laughed and broke _everything_!"

My voice grew louder and louder until I was screaming, like how I was screaming in terror that night. And I trembled with fury as I remembered my father's hand over my mouth, trying to silence my cries. And I bit my lip as I remembered grabbing that shard from the broken vase, the pretty vase that I was never supposed to play with, and slicing upwards wildly. And I found myself running like I had, past Tatsuo and Mitsuko and past he man that called himself my father.

I ran without any idea where I was headed. I distantly felt a wetness streak across my face as I flew past flurries of shocked servants, throwing open any door in my way. Flashes of disconnected noises and the eerily darkened faces of the men that held my Mother captive sent my senses into a whirling mess of past and present.

I heard myself yelling, sometimes incoherently, sometimes for help. My heart squeezed agonizingly in my chest and I longed for some trace of safety, of warmth. I blindly chased a voice in my head, a kind, patient voice that murmured words of reassurance.

"Shuuhei! Where are you, Shuuhei?" I cried, feeling the aching in my chest begin to bubble upwards, until my throat clenched painfully. Where was that warm hand that ruffled my hair, that warm voice that teased and encouraged, that warm smile that I found so hard to fight against?

"Ren?! Ren!" shouted the voice I was searching for. In my delirium, I ran toward the conjured presence. "Hey, it's okay! Stop running!"

"Shuuhei!" I sobbed, instinctively reaching out. To my astonishment, my hands made contact with something solid and warm. I felt familiar arms close around me, and the pressure in my chest dissipated almost immediately.

"It's okay, Ren," the person whispered and I let out a strangled whimper in response. "You don't have to talk about it. Just breathe."

I complied, taking huge gulps of breath, as hands rubbed soothing circles on my back. When my breathing had returned to normal and I felt relatively calm, I chanced a look upwards. "It's really you," I said, with a short, wheezy laugh.

"Who else, Chihuahua?" Shuuhei replied, patting my head tenderly. "I was just here five minutes when I heard the staff in a frenzy about a guest that was running around the house and screaming for help and sure enough…"

I poked his chest indignantly. "You're saying that like I cause trouble wherever I go."

He raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Well…"

"Hey! This time it wasn't really my fault! And I never told you to come running after me!" I retorted, but I couldn't help as a corner of my mouth twitched in a half smile.

He frowned slightly, flicking my forehead. "_You_ were calling for me and screaming, 'Where are you, Shuuhei?'."

My cheeks began to smolder as I spluttered in protest. I felt my face burn hotter as I realized that he still had an arm around my back. The other hand was wiping away tear tracks on my face.

"Yeah, well…thanks, I guess," I mumbled, twisting out of his arms.

Shuuhei seemed to become conscious of our closeness as I shuffled backward, remembering what had happened a couple of hours ago. He cleared his throat and let his hands drop to his sides, staring intensely at the wall above my head.

"Look, what happened before, with the dango. I mean, if I freaked you out, then I didn't mean to. I don't know what I was thinking. I just—I just wanted to…well, I'm sorry for…that," he stammered, completely unlike the calm and composed Shuuhei that was comforting me minutes ago.

I grinned nervously, managing to force out a few short barks of laughter. "Don't worry, I already forgot." More like I was trying my hardest to forget.

"Well, um, good. I was worried that it might affect our relationship—not that we have a _relationship_ relationship, but you know, our living-and-working together…thing."

I steeled my nerves and walked over to slap his arm. "Hey, we're both guys. We're not supposed to read too deeply into situations. Just chill out."

He glanced down at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. "I guess I have been overthinking this."

"Yeah, just ignore whatever Shiranui says," I said, nodding determinedly.

One of his eyebrows jumped upward. "Shiranui?"

"Oh, my zanpakuto always tries to give me some whacked up advice," I explained hurriedly, grimacing at my mistake. "The point is," I said, trying to backtrack, "just don't think about it at all, okay?"

Instead of taking his mind away from what happened, it appeared that I had just channeled his thoughts toward investigating the mysteries of my zanpakuto. _No, not good! _

"Rocks!" I shouted, "Which is to say, I was looking at the rocks outside, in the zen gardens, before you came. The prince was giving me a tour of the estate—_never_ have him give you a tour."

Shuuhei chuckled, returning to his old self. "Why? Did he keep you away from the kitchens?"

I snorted. "That's impossible. No, but that boy has an unhealthy obsession with swirls of sand and rocks, drinking tea, and meditating. He's like an old man already."

"There's nothing wrong with appreciating a garden with a hot cup of tea," he said, shrugging. I wrinkled my nose in disapproval. "And mediation is helpful for clearing your mind—and for establishing contact with your zanpakuto."

I struggled to hold in my panic, feeling the situation approach dangerous territory once again despite my efforts to derail the conversation. "As much fun as being mentally assaulted by your crazy aunt of a zanpakuto, I think we better find Mitsuko and apologize to her for the inconvenience."

"Nice try. _You _should apologize to her for the inconvenience that _you _caused," Shuuhei retorted, a wry smile dancing upon his lips.

I shrugged noncommittally. "You always do a great job of covering for me with the ladies anyway, Casanova."

I swiveled back around, marching back through the hallway with a confident grin, pausing slightly to bask in Shuuhei's confused silence. I burst into laughter as Shuuhei bumped into a maidservant and apologized profusely. I tried unsuccessfully to hold in my giggling when he finally caught up to me.

"It's nice not to be the one exploding from embarrassment this time," I sniggered, lightly punching him in the arm. He tried to scowl, but somehow ended up with a mash-up of an angry, confused, and amused expression, eyebrow twitching wildly, only making me laugh harder.

By the time that we reached the guest dining room, I was practically wheezing from my giggling spasms, probably looking somewhat deranged, and even Shuuhei was chuckling softly. It was no wonder the house staff were giving us strange looks.

Suddenly sensing a very unwanted presence, I stiffened up immediately, my light mood evaporating.

"It's so nice to hear your laughter again, Ren-Ren," mused a smooth voice from the furthest corner of the room.

I gritted my teeth, determined not to be goaded to an explosive rage. I almost jumped when Shuuhei placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I shook my head, trying to ignore the burning sensation trickling down my arm.

"Wha—I mean, what are you doing here, Ryota?" I growled, making the effort not to raise my voice. My fingers twitched involuntarily when I was met with an indifferent shrug.

"I should ask the same question. I'm assigned here," he replied casually, as if he were speaking to someone that didn't want to punch through his eye sockets. After a slight pause, he smirked. "So, have you met _him_ yet? You know, the deadbeat that abandoned—"

If not for Shuuhei's quick thinking, I would have already vaulted over the table and tackled Ryota. So I was grudgingly grateful to Shuuhei for nearly choking the life out of me by grabbing the neck of my shihakusho. He gave me an apologetic look and I nodded curtly in thanks.

Whirling around, I slowly made my way around the table. Ryota smiled ever so slightly, like this was all amusing to him. My temper roared forth. "You asshole—you knew my father was here?!" I demanded, my fists clenched so tight that crescent shaped scratches were beginning to appear. I barely noticed them. "Why the hell didn't you tell me? I deserved to know!"

This time I really did jump when Shuuhei took my shaking hand in his. "Don't hurt yourself," he murmured gently. "Ren…please," he said insistently, thumbs brushing over my wound fingers, slowly unwrapping them.

I glanced back at Shuuhei, and my heart almost stopped at his expression, so full of concern and caring that in a heartbeat I immediately relinquished my anger. I wanted to ask why, why he cared so much, but before I could, Ryota scoffed loudly and my attention snapped back to him.

A brief flash of some indistinct emotion flitted across those brown eyes, and his entire demeanor seemed to melt into something darker. If Shuuhei was surprised by the emergence of Ryota's true self, then he didn't show it. "Why did I 'have to tell you'?" he asked scornfully. "Why do I have to do anything for you? It's not like your father did either. _You didn't mean anything to him_."

This time, Shuuhei wasn't quick enough to hold me back. In a split second, I had already grabbed Ryota by the front of his shihaksuho. "Take that back!" I snarled, my spiritual energy beginning to escape from its restraints.

Ryota responded with a gratified sneer. "What? It's true. Actually, he didn't even abandon you—he tried to _sell_ you. "

My vision was instantly swathed in a crimson film as I smashed the taller man against the wooden wall, angry tears threatening to break from my control. Ryota grunted at the harsh impact, but otherwise seemed to be amused at my display. His small smile grew into a vicious grin as he looked down at me. Suddenly, his eyes flicked back toward Shuuhei, who was rushing over.

"_You never meant anything to me either_," he said, just loud enough for Shuuhei to hear. In the next moment, both of my hands were wrested from his shihakusho and trapped by an iron grasp.

Before I could even comprehend what had happened, a pair of icy cold lips had descended upon mine.

_NO!_ I shouted in my mind, but Ryota only pressed more violently against my lips. It seemed like my body was frozen and I could only stand there in horror as my stomach churned in disgust. The tears that I had tried to hold back exploded and in its torrential wake, igniting a second wave of rage.

I bit down on his bottom lip and was satisfied when I tasted a trickle of metallic tang. Ryota jumped backward, clutching his mouth. My spiritual energy exploded outward, my hands bursting into white flames and incinerating the kido that had bound my hands.

"Why so upset?" he drawled, grinning wider as I rubbed at my mouth viciously with my sleeve. "Ah, don't tell me that was your first kiss. I'm not actually surprised that—"

Before he could finish his sentence, before I could even react, Ryota was sent flying across the room, crashing completely through the wall and landing on top of a table, reducing it to splinters. I looked down at my hands, no longer ablaze, which hadn't seemed to move. Slowly, disbelievingly, I glanced sideways and was shocked to find Shuuhei standing next to me, his hand clenched into a fist.

"I should've punched him harder," he growled, his eyes swirling in unreadable shadow. I scanned him, completely confused. Shuuhei wasn't supposed to lose his cool, he was the epitome of calm and mature.

Before could digest what had just occurred, Shuuhei had shunpoed through the hole in the wall and was roughly hauling Ryota up by the front of his shihakusho. I blinked away my shock, wiped away my long forgotten tears, and ran over to the scene.

Shuuhei had Ryota held in a position much like I did moments before, and something about the way Shuuhei's back muscles were rippling told me that he would definitely follow up on his earlier thought. And although Ryota's cheek was turning a very pleasing shade of red, I doubted our host would appreciate more shinigami busting through her house.

Tentatively, I touched Shuuhei's shoulder and mustered up my best placating tone. "Erm, Shuuhei, I appreciate your…concern, but I don't think Masami-san would like it if we held a seated officer beatdown in her dining room. I think I covered the whole, uh, house-wrecking phase already," I said lightly, sighing in relief as I felt the muscles under my hand relax.

"Moriyama, Hisagi-_fukutaichou_," Ryota hummed dismissively, but there was no doubt a challenge issued in the way his voice hardened at the end. With one last infuriating grin at me, Ryota brushed aside Shuuhei's hand and shunpoed out of sight. It took every ounce of my willpower to go chasing after him.

Shuuhei had still not turned to face me, so I planted myself directly in front of him. I was still not able to discern anything from his darkened eyes, which disturbed me greater than I would have liked. "I would never expect to have to break _you_ up from a fight," I tried, trying to brighten the heavy atmosphere.

Finally, a smile tugged at the corner of Shuuhei's mouth and the building tension that had seized my lungs melted away. "I think you're a negative influence," he said, running a hand through his hair bashfully.

"I wouldn't say being a little aggressive is _completely_ negative. The ladies do love the whole rebellious bad boy type. I mean, you already have the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going for you," I joked, but stopped abruptly, processing the words that had just tumbled out of my mouth.

My face grew so hot that I wouldn't have been surprised if someone chucked egg at my face and it started to fry.

"I mean, you know, your, uh, accessories and all seem kind of dark—not that they're unfashionable, because you're completely fashionable—unless you don't want to be and I completely understand if you're not into those kinds of things, and I definitely don't mean _those _kinds of things because I would never peg you for that kind of guy! Don't worry, everyone says you're so masculine with your tattoos and muscles and jawline and all! Hahahaha!"

Oh, kami, I was in the Hysterical Laughter Phase now. I had only entered the Hysterical Laughter Phase twice before, and the results still continued to haunt me. My only hope at this point was to jump out of a window.

"Moriyama-san, Hisagi-san?" I was never happier to see a pretentious teenage noble in my life.

"Tatsuo, thank kami you're here!" I cried and rushed over to him and grasped his hand in gratitude. He seemed taken aback at my exclamation, but he made no move to correct my unprecedented display of friendliness.

He cleared his throat and I dropped his hand. "I'll tell the servants to move the dinner the second dining room, seeing as this one has been…incapacitated." He gestured to a maidservant, who nodded and he began to lead us down another set of hallways. I made sure to stay by Tatsuo's side, leaving Shuuhei in the back, hoping he would forget my incredible display of social stupidity.

"You really don't mind if I call you Tatsuo?" I asked, trying not to look backward.

His eyes snapped to mine and away just as fast. "It's better than Chibi-Ouji," he grumbled, looking aside. It may have been a trick of the light, but I swore I saw a faint dusting of pink on his otherwise pale cheeks.

"Hey, then you can call me Ren, or Ren-chan like your sister does," I said teasingly, ruffling his hair. He wriggled out of my reach, trying to straighten out his hair.

"No," he said immediately, "I'll call you Ren."

I shrugged, feeling my anxiety begin to disappear. "Aniki works too," I mused and Ryota glared in response.

"I'm already taller than you," he pointed out, trying, but failing miserably to mask his smile. It was refreshing to see him make an expression besides arrogant displeasure.

"Well, I'm older than you. And _I_ say we're the same height," I said definitively, my authority as an adult no doubt enhanced by sticking out my tongue. Tatsuo lifted his eyebrows in challenge, drawing himself up to full height.

I heard a giggle in front of me and this time, I was sure that Tatsuo was blushing. "I'm glad to see that Tatsuo is getting along with you so well," Masami said with that musical lilt of hers. "You might as well be Tatsuo and Mitsuko's older brother."

"I already tried to make him call me aniki. Maybe I should try to make him call me onii-sama," I contemplated aloud and snickered at Tatsuo's scowl.

"Well, Ren's _not_ my brother," he said emphatically. "I might have to kill myself if he was."

"What's that supposed to mean," I pouted, giving him a playful, one-handed shove. I must have put more force into it than I thought because Tatsuo stumbled precariously, almost falling on his noble butt.

"First-name basis already?" Masami asked, giggling mischievously. "The only other person my son called by their first name was my hairdresser, even though she was seventeen years older than him. He had such a fantastic crush on her! He used to pick flowers in the garden, even though he would get chased by the gardener, and give them to her and say 'These are as pretty as you, Akari!'. But he would get so scared that he would run away right afterward!"

Wow, this woman as bad as my own mother. "And when she got married, Tatsuo refused to come out his room for a week. My poor little boy was so heartbroken that he refused to fall in love with a girl ever again!"

Tatsuo's entire face had turned such an intense scarlet that I thought he would spontaneously combust. He seemed to be praying for the floor to swallow him up, a feeling that I knew only too well. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, making him look like a flustered little fish. I failed to stop myself from snickering at the image.

"It's all right, Tatsuo. I'm sure that you weren't as adorable as your mother says," I said gravely, struggling to keep a serious face, though it only seemed to make him turn an even more vivid shade of red.

"How about you, Hisagi-san?" she asked suddenly, sharply reminding me that he was behind us. I tried to keep facing forward, despite the magnetic presence behind me. "I'm sure that you have some interesting stories about Ren-san."

I heard a low chuckle. "Too many to count," he confessed. "Though, I could start with the one where he managed to blow up an onsen."

"How about you _not_," I snapped, losing my fight to avoid eye contact. I gave him my most venomous glare, but this time, Shuuhei seemed unfazed, his face lit up with a devious grin. My glowering mask faltered as Shuuhei crossed his arms and leaned back in defiance, eyebrow raised in challenge. He was enjoying this!

He stroked his chin dramatically in mock pensiveness. "Hmmmm. That story is a little mundane. Maybe I'll entertain them with a tale of your Academy days, which, from what your friend tells me, are 'scandalously cute'."

"_You wouldn't dare_," I growled, struggling to sound threatening, but the look in Shuuhei's eyes made it difficult to concentrate.

"Or maybe I can tell them a story about your drunken escapades. 'Shuu-chan' certainly appreciated them," he mused.

I paused in startled confusion. "What are you talking about?" I demanded, a nagging feeling twisting in the back of my mind. Was I forgetting something important?

That made him clam up. Suddenly, Shuuhei backed up, that strange intimidating aura vanishing immediately. "Nothing. Forget what I said."

"Whoa there, buddy. You can't just drop something like that and just say it was 'nothing'," I retorted, feeling a wave of panic churning in my stomach.

All I remembered was acting like a child, running around and jumping on Shuuhei's back. Did I say something mind-burningly embarrassing? Oh, kami, what if I—

"Ren, dinner's ready," Tatsuo said snappily, seemingly irritated. A remnant of pink still colored his cheeks. He nodded curtly in Shuuhei's direction and ushered me into the room, making me feel a bit like a herded sheep.

He showed me to a seat at the far corner of the table and took a seat next to me. Slightly confused, I was about to ask why he was so insistent on sitting next to me, but I felt a tugging at my sleeve.

"Ren-chan! Okaa-san said that we could have green tea ice cream after dinner!" Mitsuko crowed, beaming spectacularly.

I couldn't help but smile in response. "That's great, Mitsu-chan."

Shuuhei just had to go and sit directly across from me. I gave him a narrow-eyed stare, making sure the 'we-are-_so _-talking-about-this-later-you-wuss' vibe was clear. He quickly broke eye contact, settling for helping Masami to her seat. I felt a stab of irritation, but brushed it aside.

My attention, however, was quickly consumed by the array of unbelievably delicious-looking plates set out in front of us.

"Ren, you're about to start drooling," Shuuhei quipped and I very maturely blew a raspberry in response.

"Well don't wait for me," Masami laughed and it took all of my willpower to not tear apart the food like an underfed, rabid animal. It felt like my taste-buds and I had died and gone to heaven. I wanted to spin in circles and cry from happiness.

I ignored the amused looks that Shuuhei was giving me, and tried to start a conversation with Tatsuo, but now he was the one who refused to make eye contact, looking very much like the sullen little noble that I had met earlier in the day, except for the hint of color that refused to leave his naturally pale cheeks. _Teenagers_, I sighed.

"The food looks amazing, Masami-san," I said reverently, but Masami merely shook her head.

"I can barely make a pot of rice. All compliments should go to the chef," she said. I was thoroughly surprised. Masami was the pinnacle of womanhood. I shrugged, somehow feeling a bit better at my complete lack of domestic talent.

I heard an affronted huff in the corner of my mind and paused for a minute to smile to myself.

**88888888**

"I hope you were satisfied with the dinner," Masami said unnecessarily. We had cleaned off all of the plates (well, mostly I did) and they were currently being carried off in stacks by the servants. Mitsuko had lost her struggle to stay awake and was resting her head in her mother's lap.

"The green tea ice cream was the perfect finishing touch," I admitted, remembering the surprising amount that Mitsuko had eaten. The little girl had a stomach that surprised even me.

Masami waved her hand at the man who remained in the corner and I almost jumped when he moved. I had forgotten his presence. A fringe of inky black hair nearly obscured his eyes. He approached with a tokkuri* of warmed sake. He poured out a cupful for Shuuhei and did the same for me. Nobody would want a repeat of my crazy drunken episodes, but I pretended to down a mouthful of the sake, not wanting to hurt Masami-san's feelings.

"I'd like to thank you again for saving Tatsuo and Mitsuko today. You were both so brave," Masami said, bowing from her seated position.

I shook my head vigorously. "It was nothing," I insisted.

"We were just doing our job," Shuuhei agreed, but managing to look unfairly cool. He took a sip of the sake and nodded in appreciation.

I had to avert my gaze, flashes of my train-wreck of a speech begin to resurface. _How could I have been so stupid?! _Now he probably thought that I—I—_liked_—_  
><em>

Tatsuo cleared his throat, catching my attention. "Ren…is it possible …for you to teach me…how to…fight?" he asked, boring holes in the table with his eyes. The request seemed to cause him physical pain.

I glanced at Shuuhei, who shrugged. I rolled my eyes, mouthing a sarcastic 'thank you'. After a moment of hesitation, I placed a hand on his shoulder, mustering by best role model voice. "Look, you did great today. You were the bravest out of all of us, defending your sister, even while being scared out of your mind."

He looked upward abruptly, frowning, but surprisingly, he bit back any protests. "You were a real man today, Tatsuo," I said firmly, squeezing his shoulder.

Tatsuo, the being the pale, emotionally volatile noble teenager that he was, broke into another full-face blush and I let my hand slip off his shoulder.

"But, if it's okay with your mother, I wouldn't mind teaching you a few tricks," I added, looking toward Masami.

She was smiling secretively, which made me a little worried, but she quickly inclined her head in approval. "Well, that's awesome. Now I have my very own apprentice!" I cheered, sending Shuuhei a smug look. He crossed his arms as if to say 'well, now that pain in the ass is your problem'.

It turned Tatsuo was not having a facial seizure, but instead seemed to struggling to quell his outpouring of foreign, non-grouchy emotion. Eventually, he lost though, and his normally surly features were brightened by a wide grin that reminded me of his sister. Huh. I would've never thought the boy could look so cheerful.

"Lesson number one, my young disciple, smile more often, else the ladies will think you're a dramatic ball of badly masked, angst-ridden distress," I said jokingly. "Unless, of course, they're into the dark, brooding type, but those girls tend to be scarily…enthusiastic. Personally, I think you look much better happy."

Tatsuo spluttered indignantly and I watched in amusement as he tried to pull over his façade of cool disdain. "I don't—"

"We'll use the division's training grounds," I said, cutting him off. "It'll just be…easier that way."

Shuuhei gave me a questioning look, but he seemed to sense my silent plea and assented. Not for the first time, I felt incredibly grateful for his understanding. Another meeting with…Tsukikawa or Ryota would be a complete disaster.

"Would you like another cup of sake, Hisagi-san?" Masami asked, motioning over to the creepy servant guy.

"Thank you," Shuuhei said, reaching over to pick up the refilled cup. I frowned as he nearly missed the glass. He furrowed his eyebrows and blinked rapidly, his eyes looking slightly unfocused.

That was strange. I didn't remember Shuuhei being a lightweight. "Hey, Shuu—whoa! Are you okay? Shuuhei!"

He collapsed forward onto the table and I immediately leapt to my feet. Before I could reach him however, a flicker of silver zoomed past me, narrowly missing my head.

Instinctively, I cast a protective barrier around the Nakatomis and glanced in the direction of the movement.

"Tch. I suppose you didn't drink," snarled a voice to my left. Already lowered into a defensive stance, I cautiously turned my body to face the assailant.

"Well, I'm not exactly a raging alcoholic," I snapped, "and poison really isn't my thing."

Sure enough, the servant guy from before stood poised at the opposite end of the room, lazily fingering another shuriken. His dark eyes were indecipherable, but a cruel smile danced across his thin lips. I cursed inwardly, berating myself for failing to trust my instincts.

"I should have known you were an assassin. Creeper slime practically oozes out of your eyeballs," I said loudly, steadily inching in front of the Nakatomis, while my hand instinctively crept toward my hip. I swore softly when I realized that I had left my zanpakuto at the front door with a servant. Darned house manners.

I risked a glance at Tatsuo, who was standing in front of his mother and sister, albeit trembling himself. Mistuko clung desperately to her mother's leg, cowering in fear, but not making a sound. Masami shielded her daughter, her eyes sparking like flint.

Shuuhei was still unconscious, but his paling face was drawn in a pained expression. I could see a sweat break above his quivering eyelids. Worry stabbed at my stomach like I had swallowed red-hot razorblades, and I had to restrain myself from rushing to his aid.

When I looked back at the assassin, I found myself having a hard time focusing on him. It seemed like he was fading in and out of the background, inscrutable as the shadows dancing around the room. His startlingly white skin appeared to be emitting an eerie glow. I shivered as an icy tingling shot up my spine and I had a strange feeling it wasn't because of the opened shoji screen. I had to bite my lip to keep my head in the game.

He seemed to be aware of the strange effect he had, as his grin grew wider and even more arrogant. "What's the matter, little shinigami? Feeling a little _scared_?" he taunted, tossing his head.

I felt an immediate surge of anger course through me, causing my blood to begin to pound in my ears, as well as an equally strong desire to pull out the man's flamboyantly long hair. Just thinking about it made me itchy. What kind of assassin had to flip their hair?!

"Naw, just pissed off at your sissy-boy hair. If you're trying to hide your_ fabulousness_, well, let's just say you're not doing too well of a job," I countered, partly in a strategic attempt to divert his attention.

My superior ability to get under people's skin hadn't failed me yet and didn't fail this time either. Immediately, his smirk morphed into a downright murderous sneer and he drew a wicked-looking knife from his robes. Almost the size of my forearm, the forked blade glinted menacingly, the pitch-black metal giving the unnerving feeling of being made of pure shadow.

I gave a low whistle. "That's one seriously freaky knife. I mean, sure it compliments your look, but don't you think it feels a bit overboard. It comes off as kind of, you know, _overcompensating_."

Once again thanking my natural charm, I narrowly avoided a vicious swipe to the throat by vaulting over the table. I backed out of the doorway into an open space, grimacing as I heard small stones crunch under my step. I was going to get an earful from a certain crotchety noble for messing up his precious swirly rock gardens.

"I understand that you may be at that awkward stage in life, struggling to discover yourself and all, and who knows, maybe deep down inside, you're a _glamorous_, wonderfully morbid boy, but I'm here to tell you that there are healthier ways to express yourself," I jeered.

Tatsuo stared at me like I had just lost my mind, but I simply looked back at the peeved assassin with a surely infuriating grin, hand on my hip for added effect. He took my bait and came after me, launching himself with his arm raised in a lethal-looking strike.

Calmly, I raised my palm moments before contact. "Bakudō #61. Rikujōkōrō!" I shouted and six beams of light smashed into the man's midsection, knocking him out of the air. He found himself kneeling on the ground, unable to move.

"By the way, that's my fukutaichou that you tried to off. So, do you want to tell me why you tried to poison two shinigami officers?" I growled, making my way over to him. "No? That's fine. We can just chat about why you were trying to kill the Nakatomis. I'm sure it's a very _interesting _story."

To my surprise, the immobilized man began to giggle softly, the disturbing kind of laughter that made me sigh as I realized that, crap, here was another psycho that I had to deal with.

"Oi! Something funny about being floored?" I demanded, grabbing the man by the collar.

As I touched him, a spark of electricity ran through my being and I recoiled in horror. This spiritual energy, it was odd and warped, but I recognized it.

It seemed like the world was moving in slow motion. The rods of light that fastened him began to vibrate, beginning to crack apart. "_Fade into twilight_, Kage no Hokō-ki*," he whispered, but I heard him clearly as if he spoke in my ear.

His kido prison shattered into glittering dust, but the light seemed to be swallowed by a dark miasma of ghostly energy. A feeling of dread washed over me, so powerful that I could not move, let alone breathe.

"You're not the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve," he crooned.

"You're a shinigami?!" I said in disbelief, though I was reminded of his strange, but familiarly patterned spiritual energy. But him, a shingami? That had to be impossible.

He wagged his finger. "Now, now, I can't go spilling all my secrets," he said, as if he was scolding a small child.

Nevertheless, the blade that he was holding had lengthened into a full-size katana. There was no way that the spiritually charged sword was not a zanpakuto.

"You're kidding me! Haven't I had enough shit to deal with today, world?" I asked the night sky, which refused to respond.

"I'll admit, exasperation usually isn't the first reaction people have when they face my Kage no Hokō-ki," the dark-haired man said.

"What usually is? The uncontrollable desire to tickle?" I asked sarcastically.

Now probably wasn't the best time to aggravate a potentially dangerous, you know, _assassin_, but when was it ever?

"_Despair_," he hissed. He fell into proper fighting position, looking _very_ ready to use his zanpakuto.

Yeah, _really _regretting leaving my zanpakuto with the servant now.

Nevertheless, I couldn't resist the desire to, well, be an ass. "Hmmm. Despair. Sounds tasty."

He narrowed his eyes, raising his zanpakuto. "We'll see if you can keep up your confidence after this. _Yoarashi*._

The miasma of noxious spiritual energy that curled around his feet began to swell and churn ominously. Suddenly, the cloud whipped into a tornado-like spear, moving so fast that I had to shunpo out of its path.

Unfortunately, the storm only continued to follow me, forcing me to perform a few acrobatics to avoid its path. Somehow, each time I avoided it, it only seemed to grow in size.

"What's the matter, little shinigami, can't fight without your zanpakuto?" he laughed, hovering in the air a few yards in front of me on a platform of the black fog.

Fed up with playing tag with an evil cloud, I finally turned around to face the attack. Taking a deep breath, I steeled my nerves. "Actually, my _specialty_ is fighting without my zanpakuto," I said, lifting an eyebrow in challenge.

I raised both of my arms. "Hadō #58: Tenran!" I roared and a hurricane of spiritual energy burst forth to meet the nasty-looking storm. The two storms clashed and the black cloud immediately dissipated into murky vapor.

Before I could even stop to survey the damage, I was hit with a stinging stab to the chest, right above my heart. The breath knocked out of me, I looked down, but found no blade. Nevertheless, a numbing sensation spread from the area, making me feel dazed. Spots danced in front of my eyes as I struggled to regain my breath, but a suffocating pressure on my lungs only made it more difficult.

He must have moved directly in front of me, but I was only dimly aware of him, only a blurred apparition in my vision. He clacked his tongue. "You see, there is no stopping hopelessness. It remains, feeding, growing, until you cannot help but succumb to it. The more you fight it, the weaker you become."

"I m-may not look like it…" I wheezed, "but I can be one…_optimistic_ bastard."

At point blank range, I punched my palm toward his chest, mumbling "Hadō #33: Sōkatsui," and the blue spiritual energy exploded outward with concussive force.

He should have been sent flying backward, but he only floated back a few feet, another miasma of energy absorbing the blow. The blackness swirled around his limbs, the tendrils of smoky darkness making him look vaguely insect-like.

Before I could shudder at the image, I was blinded by another wave of agony, my vision fading into pitch black. I tried not to panic, but staying collected while not being able to see or breathe was proving to be quite the challenge.

"Haven't you learned anything yet, little shinigami? _The night is my domain_," he crowed.

Distantly, I heard the sound of a sword cutting through the air and I twisted backward just early enough to feel the metallic-scented current of air on my neck.

"That's beautiful! Dance! _Dance_!" he trilled, madly slashing at me. I was forced to contort wildly in order to avoid the blade, relying on my sense of smell and hearing. One particularly ferocious swing caught me at the side of the cheek, the cut hissing and burning terribly. It bled more than it should have, a rivulet of warm blood running down my chin.

Distracted by the stinging pain, I couldn't hold in a cry as the sword sliced across my arm. "My zanpakuto's poison is a tad slow, but with every movement you make, the closer you step toward utter paralysis. Isn't it poetic?" he mused.

To my alarm, my fingertips began to feel slightly frozen and the weight on my chest only got heavier. I blinked rapidly, but my vision refused to clear. I didn't want to risk another kido attack, but I was running out of options.

"You're feeling it now, aren't you? The despair," he purred, continuing his furious assault.

My knees were beginning to feel a bit weak and I felt my movements growing slower. The irritating buzz in the recesses of my consciousness that I was ignoring suddenly erupted in volume. Although it felt like my head was being split open, I finally realized that the droning noise was a voice.

A very female, very familiar, very _nagging _voice.

_Now is not the time for your headstrong foolishness, Ren! Release me! Demonstrate our power to that uncouth buffoon! RELEASE ME!_

"Where are you, Shiranui?" I cried, clutching at my head.

All of a sudden, there was a crashing sound to my right, like someone had burst through a wall. The presence was unmistakable. Soon, there was a voice at my ear. "Looking for something?"

The condescending undertone of that voice was something that I could never forget. I felt anger begin to boil again, bubbling up over the overwhelming feeling of panic.

"_Ryota_," I snarled, picturing his smug grin.

"Now is that any way to respond to your savior?" he chided. "I finished taking out some shady-looking guys outside, which, I'm guessing, are this boy's backup. Barely even broke a sweat. Now you on the other hand…well, you look like you just got your ass handed to you. And what a pity, the fukutaichou's all passed out too. What a guiding force."

"Shut up," I growled, starting to be able to make out Ryota's infuriating form.

The day when Ryota Kaneko saved me. The world was surely ending now.

"Who are you?" the assassin snapped at Ryota, regarding him with annoyed interest rather than immediate defensiveness. He must not have sensed Ryota's churning, but tightly controlled spiritual energy.

"Only a delivery boy," he remarked. "It's kind of sad that you need your zanpakuto for this, Ren, but here—happy birthday."

My vision had cleared enough for me to catch the incoming projectile. As soon as my fingers brushed the familiar smooth wood of the saya, I heard a peaceful ring in my head, a pulse that cleared away the muddy darkness. My fingers clasped around a familiar sheath and I grinned as I drew Shiranui, relishing in the resounding _shiiing. _I wasted no time in tugging the cloth free. As soon as the chain wound around my arm, I felt the pressure uncoil from my chest.

This time I was glad when Shiranui burst into flames, the bright whiteness of them piercing through the darkness, casting off an almost ethereal glow. My own spiritual energy sprang to life, starting to spark off my body.

"T-thanks…I guess," I grumbled painfully.

"Don't thank me," Ryota snorted, "it was your father that found it."

An immediate shockwave ran through me and my spiritual energy responded in kind, flashing dangerously. Why did my father help me? He had no right to touch my zanpakuto! Nevertheless, I was grudgingly grateful to the man.

Now I finally had the chance to pound in this narcissistic assassin creep's face. Setting his hair on fire sounded like a very appealing option.

"Ryota, take the Nakatomis somewhere safe," I commanded rather than requested.

He regarded me with a narrowed stare. "You'll owe me," he murmured. Before the assassin could react, Ryota smashed through my kido barrier and grasped Masami's hand. Although startled, she appeared to understand and grabbed Mitsuko's hand. Tatsuo hesitated, throwing a prickly look in my direction. I nodded swiftly and he obeyed, taking Ryota's open hand.

"Don't get killed yet, _Ren-Ren_," Ryota said mockingly, disappearing with a maddening wink. I sighed in relief, but then saw that he had left Shuuhei, still horribly unconscious, behind and the reluctant appreciation I had for Ryota ebbed away. That bastard.

The assassin bellowed in rage, finally seeming to comprehend the sudden turn of events. His black energy whirled around him frenziedly. I looked on with satisfied disdain.

"Incredible assassin you are. Completely forgot about your targets," I said dismissively, though I tightened the grip on my zanpakuto.

"I'm going to make sure you'll never see the light of day," he spat, the tempest of energy swirling around him fast enough to create blustery winds. I winced as the rock garden literally began to fly away, or rather, the injured remains of it.

Despite the near-death experience that I had just suffered through, I couldn't help but feel excited in anticipation for part two of this match. One of the upsides of a burning desire for revenge was, after all, a rush of fiery energy.

"That's a fantastic idea, sir, but I'm afraid that'll be impossible. Like I said, I can be one optimistic bastard," I snickered, holding out my sword.

Without wasting another second, I dropped my zanpakuto. Instead of clattering on the ground, it levitated, glowing with increasing brightness at my chest level. The chain connecting Shiranui to my arm suddenly shrank and fell free. My zanpakuto begin to spin around, speeding up until it was a whistling, radiant blur.

"_O ye dragon atop the heavens, shed your light upon the nameless!_ _Blaze forth_, Shiranui!" I boomed.

Immediately, my zanpakuto stopped spinning. I took a deep breath, feeling a little tense, despite the number of times I had performed this.

Then, I watched as Shiranui plunged into my chest and my world was consumed by a blinding white light.

* * *

><p><strong>Terms &amp; TranslationsExplanations:**

Tokkuri: the usual serving container in a sake set

Kage no Hokō-ki: "Shadow-Walker"

Yoarashi: Night Storm

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah, a kind of weird place to stop, but I plan to do a _lot_ more explaining in the next chapter. **

**I have been seriously distracted by this year's pileup of amazing anime (say, Shingeki no Kyojin, anyone?). To make matters even worse, next year's lineup seems just as distracting. **

**In all of this though, I find myself losing interest in Bleach. Honestly, I'm just reading Bleach until it finally finishes, which, I'm hoping, is within this **_**decade**_**. Kubo is keeping me there by dangling the possibility of Hisagi's bankai, the biggest carrot he could ever produce (for me). **

**Unfortunately, this probably means no more Bleach stories (which I had originally planned). On the upside, I will be writing for other fandoms (most likely Hetalia, Shingeki no Kyojin, Free!, etc.), so I hope you'll stay tuned. **

**Or rather, probably not, because my update record has proven to be fairly criminal.**

**Oh, and feel free to message me any criticism (especially typos or plot holes). I really appreciate advice!**

**Anyway, I hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday season. I wish you all health and happiness into the new year!**

**-**_**Codename Ookami**_


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